


Khajimel

by Lady_Arkena



Series: Khajimel [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Thorin, Dom Bilbo, Dom/sub, Dominance, Double Penetration, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Sub Thorin, Submission, Switch Dwalin, Top Bilbo, Virgin Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1367200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arkena/pseuds/Lady_Arkena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Khajimel = gift of all gifts</p>
<p>At this instant he had known that he could never be king. Thrór had become sick with gold lust after the death of his wife ... his One. The pain had been too much to bear for his grandfather and so he had hardened his heart and mind, becoming cold and bitter. In the end Thorin hadn't recognised him anymore. </p>
<p>For all Dworin-lovers: This will be mostly Thilbo. So don't be too disappointed that Dwalin plays a rather small role in the first chapters. I hope nonetheless that the last chapter of this part will compensate for the long waiting time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anchanee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchanee/gifts).



**Prologue**

Thorin ran his fingers slowly over the two beads at the end of his braids. He had had them as long as he could think. They were a promise that he would be one day King under the Mountain and the only real precious piece of hair jewellery he had allowed himself in his long exile. He had dreamed of the day when he would show the world that he could be a good king, that he was worthy of the throne.

But he had failed. He had favoured a rock over his own kin, over his friends, over his One. He had threatened Bilbo by calling him a traitor and nearly killing him with his bare hands. But the hobbit had returned to his side anyway, saving Thorin from Azog once again and he had paid with his life for it. And only then, when he had seen his little burglar broken and bleeding, the gold sickness had vanished.

But before he could have done anything, Beorn had suddenly appeared and carried Bilbo away to the elves. Of course after the battle Thorin had gone to the elvenking, asking for his hobbit, to give him a proper burial. But Thranduil had denied with cold eyes and a cruel look on his face. So he had left the tent, his heart as broken as the body of his beloved.

At this instant he had known that he could never be king. Thrór had become sick with gold lust after the death of his wife ... his One. The pain had been too much to bear for his grandfather and so he had hardened his heart and mind, becoming cold and bitter. In the end Thorin hadn't recognised him anymore.

He wouldn't risk Erebor like that. And so he had fought for three long months. Against Balin and his council, the company and even his own sister for Fíli to become the next King under the Mountain ...

... and he had succeeded.

Today he had crowned his nephew. Finally Erebor was safe with a good king and capable advisors like Dís and Balin.

The two beads were in Thorin's hand now, his loose hair felt over his shoulders and back. He would leave the royal wing and live as a simple blacksmith in one of the modest forges of the mountain, where only iron and steel were handled.

It was better when he was far away from gold and gems. The death of his hobbit weighed too heavily on him. His soul was like a deep, open wound. But this was a just punishment, because he had lost Bilbo through his own foolish actions. He would endure the pain and desperation, not deserving the easy way out by becoming emotionless and cold like his ancestor.

And if he wasn't strong enough and went mad over his guilt and the loss of his One, he would endanger only himself and not an entire kingdom.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin finds out the truth about Bilbo's death ...

**Chapter 1**

“I didn't want to believe it, when your sister told me,” Gandalf stood at the small forge's door. 

He glanced around, frowning when he noticed in the backmost corner a thin mattress with a worn blanket, next to it a small loaf of breed and a stoneware jug and only very few other items of daily routines. Otherwise the room was dominated by a big fireplace, several anvils, various blacksmith’s tools side by side with iron and steel.

How low can the mighty get? But Thorin had willingly chosen this life and the wizard was curious to find out why. The dwarf wasn't mad with the gold-sickness anymore, but he still avoided gold and gems like the plague.

“A good day to you, too. How can I help you, Tharkûn?” Thorin sighed while working the hot iron. It had been only a matter of time for the old man to show up.

Gandalf stepped into the forge, irritated at the other's almost resigned reaction. “I am looking for some answers, Master Dwarf. Especially why your nephew sits on  _your_ throne, while you play the role of a poor blacksmith?”

“These are exactly my sister's words. I'm wondering why you don't call me a coward, too. It became one of her favorite insults lately,” the former prince answered calmly. When he gazed at the wizard he recognised the same look of disappointment on his face that he got from Balin, Dís and most other dwarves he came across.

“Fíli is barely an adult and you forced this enormous task upon his shoulders!” The scolding began.

“I know, but he is a good king, far better than I could ever be ...”

“Oh stop pitying yourself. You led your people over a hundred years. Why are you so convinced that you can't do it now, Thorin Oakenshield?” Gandalf interrupted him.

“You know why. You saw what I did when sick with gold lust. I won't risk Erebor to this madness again." His hammer went down forcefully on the iron. For a brief moment the proud heir of Durin's line was back, defending his decision. But as soon as he had surfaced he disappeared again behind a wall of utter sadness and pain.

“You defeated it once. You can do it again. You are stronger than this cursed sickness, Thorin. Come back, please,” Gandalf said gently like he was talking to a frightened child.

The dwarf however only gripped his hammer tighter  and whispered,  “I can't. Last time a hobbit had to die before I could see clearly again. Next time I ...”

“What do you mean by that? Bilbo isn't dead. He is in Mirkwood and ... Thorin, are you alright?”

The former prince turned pale; hammer and iron fell to the ground, while his whole body started to shiver.

Gandalf took a step forward to support him,  but the dwarf managed to steady himself. Fo r the first time since the wizard had entered the forge, the dwarf was looking directly at him and  choked with a desperate expression, “You're lying! I saw him. He couldn't have survived these injuries ... and Thranduil didn't say a word that he was alive. He can't be ...”

The old man cursed under his breath. He knew something was strange about the elvenking, but he would never have believed that Thranduil would be so cruel as to not inform the dwarves that their burglar had survived his injuries.

Suddenly  Dwalin burst into the forge. “Thorin? Sorry my friend, I'm late, but the meddlesome wizard is in the mountain and I'm afraid that he ... found you already,” the warrior growled while he looked between the two of them. 

He furrowed his brow, getting closer to the other dwarf. “Are you okay, Thorin? You look horrible.”

“Yes ... yes, I'm fine,” came the weak reply.

“No, you're not.” Dwalin glared at Gandalf. “What did you do to him? Did Dís or my brother send you? Why can't you all simply leave him alone?”

“Dwalin, stop it ...” Thorin tried to calm him, but his friend raged further. “No. You're somewhat content for the first time since we're back in Erebor and now this old fool comes along and ...”

“Bilbo's alive,” the former prince whispered with a quivering voice, effectively ending the other's outburst.

The warrior could only gape, before asking hesitantly, “Are you sure?”

“I ... I don't know. Tharkûn said that he is in Mirkwood and ...” he murmured brokenly, looking lost and vulnerable. “I have to go ... I have to see him.”

“Not alone. That's for sure. I'm coming with you,” Dwalin growled again.

“No, Fíli needs you here. You are one of his advisors and the captain of the royal guard. I only need a pony and a few provisions. Please my friend, stay here in Erebor,” the former prince pleaded lowly.

But the warrior stubbornly shook his head. “You won't go to these damn tree huggers alone ...”

“He won't. I will go with him,” Gandalf interrupted him. He had silently watched the argument between the two dwarves so far. Thorin was clearly shaken by the news of Bilbo's survival, trying to regain some control over his wrought-up feelings while Dwalin looked like a mother bear defending her cub.

“And that's so much better. Now I can sleep peacefully,” was his sarcastic reply. 

Suddenly there were two hands on his shoulders and Thorin's forehead touched his own. The warrior calmed down immediately by the gentle contact and the other dwarf's unique scent. Not for the first time he wished to comfort his friend not only mentally, but physically, too. But all his life Thorin hadn't shown any interest in being close to him and so their friendship had been purely platonic.

Dwalin opened his arms and sighed, when the former prince leaned into him, easily accepting the offered embrace. It showed how weary he really was. The warrior glared at Gandalf and the wizard gave him a short nod of understanding and left the forge, waiting outside.

“You are not alone. Let me help you,” the bald dwarf whispered, stroking the tense muscles of Thorin's back.

“Fíli needs you more than I do. I won't be so worried for him, when I know you're by his side,” was the low reply. “You know why I have to go alone. I'm glad you're still my friend ... that you didn't abandon me, too ... and I'm sorry that I can't give you, what you desire. 

“At the beginning of our quest I had made a promise to myself, that ... when we would be successful and I would be king ... that you would be my lover, my consort. I know it is cruel to tell you this now, because it will never happen ... I will always choose my One; I can't help it ... but please don't doubt that I love you, too.”

Dwalin smiled sadly. He had wanted to hear these words for over hundred years. “I know, âzyungâl (= lover). Don't worry; I will keep an eye on Fíli.” He led his friend to his mattress, lying him down carefully. “Sleep, Thorin. You will need your strength. I will fetch you a pony and everything else.”

The former prince nodded gratefully, before he grabbed his friend's hand with a fearful expression, “Please don't hate Bilbo. I couldn't stand the thought. It isn't his fault, that I ...” 

“I understand. Everything is fine. I don't hate your hobbit. Sleep now.” The warrior ran his hands through the dark strands soothingly, until the former prince was fast asleep.

When Dwalin left the forge, he glared coldly at the old man, who still stood outside. “May I have a word with you, wizard?” Although the title sounded more like an insult than a honorific, Gandalf didn't mention it.

They walked side by side in silence for some time, before Dwalin spoke, “You listen to me now, Tharkûn. If something happens to Thorin, I swear by my beard that I will hunt you down, your magic be damned. Do you understand?”

Gandalf frowned at the threat but nodded nonetheless, “Yes, Master Dwarf. You have made yourself crystal clear.”

Dwalin gave him a short nod and then went away without another word, disappearing in one of Erebor's many corridors.

_/\/\/\\_

Gandalf didn't like secrets that weren't his own. Two days ago he and Thorin had left Erebor. He had expected more dwarves to say goodbye to their former prince, but only Dwalin, Bofur and Bifur were at the gates. It wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time he cursed the stubbornness of dwarves.

It would be too simple to blame the tension between Thorin and his family solely on him. He hadn't wanted to break with them and every fool could see how much this distance pained him.

Gandalf signed. This wouldn't be an easy task. But the Lonely Mountain deserved peace and Thorin even more so. He wanted help his friend but first he had to know how deep this break was.

“Congratulations for Fíli's intended. Erebor will have a great queen once their courtship is successful,” he said with a happy smile. “She's a beauty, too ... as fair as Fíli.”

Thorin smiled sadly, “Yes, she is. It's always wonderful when a dwarf meets his or her One. I'm very happy for my nephew.”

“She has dark hair. You never saw her, did you?” But it wasn't a real question. For a short moment Gandalf saw pain clearly on Thorin's face before the dwarf could hide it behind a forced smile. 

“And here I thought you know the difference between light and dark hair, Master Wizard,” he joked lamely.

Gandalf didn't laugh, but asked with a grave voice, “Do you even know her name?” 

Thorin's smile vanished and he stared on his hands. “Gruna. ... Dwalin told me.”

“I'm sorry, my friend.”

“Don't be. It's my own fault,” the dwarf replied melancholically.

Gandalf signed again. This would be a very hard task.  “No, it isn’t. You never wanted to break off all contact with your kin. Why don’t you speak with them? I’m sure Fíli, Dís and the others would understand your reasons, but you left without any explanations.”

The former prince gripped his reins tightly. Yes, they would understand , he had no doubt about it.  They would pity him, comfort him and help him until he would feel better … until his pain would disappear and the gold-sickness would return.

“It is better this way. I lost …” Thorin stopped. He didn’t want to speak of Bilbo. Only Dwalin knew that the hobbit was his One. 

The wizard waited for the dwarf to continue, but to no avail. “You didn’t lose them, my friend,” Gandalf said gently.

The former prince kept silent, glad that he had been misunderstood.

_/\/\/\\_

They arrived at the elven palace after two more days. It was early in the evening and the guards led them to Thranduil's private rooms, where he and his son Legolas enjoyed a light evening meal. The prince smiled at the guests, while his father only stared coldly at the dwarf.

Then his face turned into an emotionless mask, when he applied his attention to the wizard. “Be welcome in my realm, Mithrandir.  _ What brought you _ _ here _ ? ” 

Gandalf ignored the bored tone of the elvenking and  answered with a slight bow , “Thank you for your welcome. We come to dissolve a misunderstanding. It seems that your dwarvish neighbours don't know that Master Baggins survived the battle.”

Thranduil furrowed his brow. “Yes, I remember. The dwarf asked for a corpse. I informed him that I couldn't give him one, so he left.”

Thorin stifled a growl. He wanted answers, not finickiness. “Why didn't you say that he was alive? May I see him now?”

“Because you have threated to kill him before the battle. I want to protect him and so I won't allow you to see him. Maybe you want to make good on your promise now. I won't risk the safety of our dear hobbit. I wou ld be a terrible host when Bilbo gets hurt while in my halls,” Thranduil mocked.

“I just want to apologise. I'm no danger to him anymore,” the dwarf explained through gritted teeth.

“Hmm ... I don't believe you. The proud Thorin Oakenshield never apologises. ... But maybe you aren't so proud anymore. Would you like to proof yourself?” the Woodlandking asked and his smile was far too innocent.

“How?” The former prince knew that he wouldn't like it, but he would do it anyway. Anything to see Bilbo again. But when he heard the smug command for him to undress, his mind went blank for a few moments.

After the first shock Gandalf talked insistently to  the elf. Legolas, too, tried to persuade his father  to find another way to prove Thorins humility.

But they were both silenced by Thranduil's hard voice.  “This is between me and the dwarf. If he wants to see the hobbit, he will proof himself humble.”

Thorin returned the challenging look and slowly began to take off his clothes. He had given up his pride at the precise moment, when he had realised what he had done to his One, what he had nearly destroyed.  He was glad nevertheless that they weren't in the throne room with the whole court to watch him.

Finally he stood naked before his small audience and was surprised by a wild hunger that reflected in the elvenking's eyes for a few seconds, before it disappeared behind the usually bored expression. The younger elf on the other hand blushed and tried to hide his desire, but he wasn't as successful as his father. 

He knew that his body was appealing by dwarvish standards, trained by many fights and his work in a forge. But he had never suspected that Eru's first-borns would find him attractive, too. But maybe it was only an attraction for the strange. He himself had been fascinated by the elves and especially the Woodlandking in his youth. Of course his opinion had changed tremendously after Smaug's attack and their betrayal. 

When Thranduil ordered him to come closer, the dwarf hesitantly approached. He stiffened, when he felt elegant fingers touching his flaccid cock, stroking him tenderly. Thorin knew – at least in theory – how to bed both females and males. But he had never entertained a lover ... never allowed anybody to touch him in such an intimate way, not even himself.

The former prince stifled a smile, when the elvenking frowned disappointed, because of his fruitless attempt to arouse him. Only his One could awaken his desires. He would give his virginity either to Bilbo or to no one. 

After another minute Thranduil growled and let go of the Thorin's limb cock, glaring at him. 

“Are you satisfied now?” Gandalf asked angrily.

“No, not really,” was the gruff reply. “But I should have known better than to show any interest in a dwarf. He turned me down once. Why should it be different now?”

The former prince  stiffened, “What do you mean by that? I didn't ...”

“Don't play coy, dwarf. You know exactly what I mean. Or did you forget my first visit in Erebor?” the elvenking snapped at him.

Thorin couldn't believe his ears. This had happened nearly one hundred and seventy years ago. What in Durin's name ... Oh!  Maybe he meant ...

“Your gifts ... you are talking about your presents for me. They were signs that you w ere interested in me?”  Suddenly another, painful thought pressed forward. “ Was my rejection the reason you abandoned us when Smaug came?” he choked. 

The wizard shook his head sadly, when he began to understand. Thrand uil glared between the two.

“You tried to woo a dwarfling, elvenking,” the former prince explained with a broken voice. “I was twenty three and didn't even know that such a thing like sex existed.”

“Do you think I'm stupid, dwarf? You weren't a dwarfling, but an adult,” Thranduil hissed.

“No, he is right,” Gandalf interfered, his voice unusually tired. “The body of a dwarf is with twenty years almost full-grown. But he still has the mind of a dwarfling. Dwarves reach their full maturity when they are seventy years old.”

Suddenly Thorin began to laugh ... a cruel, humourless laugh. “If you had really wanted me in your bed, you would only have had to defeat the damn dragon. Thrór would have done anything for the saviour of his treasures ... even whoring out his grandson.”

_/\/\/\\_

Thorin walked beside the prince. After he had been allowed to put on his clothes again, Legolas had offered to show him the way to Bilbo's room. Gandalf had stayed with Thranduil in his rooms. But the dwarf didn't want to know what these two were discussing. He didn't want to think at all. It would always lead in a direction he didn't like. He only wanted to see Bilbo to make sure that he really was alive.

“I'm sorry,” Legolas interrupted the silence between them.

“I don't need your pity,” came the gruff reply.

“It's sympathy not pity. We're here.” The elf knocked on a simple wooden door. When he heard a low “Enter!”, he opened it. “Good evening, mellon nin. I hope you aren't tired already. You have a visitor.”

The hobbit laughed, light and clear like crystal, “You know I'm lying in this bed nearly all day, thanks to your overprotective healers. It was only a light infection after all. So I'm not tired at all. But who ... Thorin!”

The dwarf stood still in the door, starring at Bilbo, who turned pale.

His One wasn't dead, his body not broken and bleeding. He went slowly to the bed, his eyes never leaving his hobbit. The honey curls were longer, reaching his shoulders. He was thinner, but he didn't look sick at all. And his eyes, by Mahal he could get lost in these beautiful orbs. He had never seen such a colour before – blue-gray with a hint of green. He had been such a fool to prefer the Arkenstone over such treasure.

“Thorin? Are you alright?” Bilbo's anxious voice brought him back to the present and only now did Thorin see the fear in his beloved's face. 

He kneeled beside the bed in an instant and took his One's left hand into his own. “I'm sorry, Bilbo. Please don't fear me. I'm so sorry. I will be entirely at your service, in any way imaginable …” he begged in a low voice.

The fear disappeared from Bilbo's face and after a moment the hobbit smiled  hesitantly.  “Only if you can forgive me, too. I stole the Arkenstone although I knew what it meant for you. I'm sorry ...”

“No, you were right,” the dwarf interrupted him gently. “It is just a rock and I was blinded by the gold lust. I nearly destroyed everything in my madness. You could be dead because of me.”

“Let's not talk about the past. It's over. We're both alive and I would be honoured to call you my friend again. We are friends, aren't we?” The shy question nearly broke Thorin's heart and he could only nod.

Yes, they would be friends ... and nothing more. He could see the restraint in Bilbo's eyes, although the other tried to hide it. He had lost his chance for his One's love the moment the madness had taken him.

Suddenly the hobbit's smile got brighter. “How are the others? Can I see them, too?” But then some small disappointment coloured his voice. “And why are you coming only now?”

The former prince shook his head. “I'm sorry. There was a ... misunderstanding. We thought you were dead and ...”

“What?!?” Bilbo looked from the dwarf to the elf – who had the decency to look at least a little crestfallen – before he signed, “I see. Legolas, you know I'm very grateful for your help and everything else, but sometimes your father is a sneaky bastard!”

The elvenprince smiled. “I know, but I have the feeling that Mithrandir gives him a right royal dressing down for this.”

Bilbo shook his head and laughed, “That must be a sight. The great Woodlandking gets a scolding. But when can I see the others?”

“It's only Gandalf and me for now. The others stayed in Erebor,” Thorin explained.

“Of course. Silly me. You've got a lot of work to do,” the hobbit babbled, before he frowned. “But why did you leave the mountain. You're king. They need you. You shouldn't have left for only one silly hobbit.”

“Don't belittle yourself, Bilbo,” the dwarf growled. “Without you Erebor wouldn't be a home for any of us. And I can leave the mountain whenever I want. Fíli is king, not me.”

“What? But why? You fought so hard for the throne and Fíli is still so young. Why did you abdicate?” Bilbo wanted to know.

The former prince hesitated, but in the end he just smiled sadly, “It's a long and complicated story my friend and ... I'm afraid I'm rather tired  after traveling all day .”

“Oh, I'm sorry. I sometimes forget that not everybody lies in bed all day,” he joked lamely. “Good night then, Thorin,” he said when dwarf and elf left his room. Legolas led his guest to a simple room with a dwarf-sized bed and also wished him “Good night”. 

When Thorin was finally alone he took a deep breath. He thought with Bilbo alive, the pain in his chest would diminish, but that had been a mistake. To have his burglar so close and not be allowed to touch and love him ... that was even more torturous than the death of his One could have ever been.

He sat down on the bed. His sight became blurry with unshed tears,  when he thought about the obviously close friendship between Bilbo and the elvenprince. 

How excited the hobbit had been to hear about the others. Jealousy roared inside his chest for a brief moment. 

But it was his own fault, wasn't it? He had no one but himself to blame for the loss of his One.  He closed his eyes and curled into a tight ball. He only wanted to lie down and forget, sobbing for a long time before sleep finally claimed him.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's first time ...

** Chapter 2 **

Thorin looked absent minded at the glowing iron. Only one month ago he and Gandalf had returned to Erebor. They had stayed in Mirkwood for just three days. Then the dwarf hadn't been able to bear Thranduil's vacant stares and Bilbo's distant friendliness anymore. He knew he had fled like a coward. But every time he had watched how warmly and affectionately his One had been with Legolas or Gandalf, he had felt a stabbing pain in his heart. Sometimes the hobbit's behaviour towards him had been so obviously different that Thorin doubted he had even regained Bilbo's friendship.

He removed the hot iron from the fire and worked on it mechanically. This was his life now. He burned himself out in the forge, ate whatever food Dwalin brought him and then crashed out. The exhaustion made the pain in his heart and mind a little more bearable, but never dissolved it entirely.

Some days ago Dwalin had informed him that a delegation from Mirkwood with Prince Legolas and Bilbo had arrived. Thranduil was willing to re-establish their trade relations. He had even send gifts, for example Orcrist for the young king, to show his good intentions. 

But Thorin didn't grieve about the sword, but the absence of his hobbit. Now he knew for sure that his One hadn't forgiven him, maybe even didn't want to forgive him. His eyes burned and he called himself to order. 

_ Don't think, just work. It's your own fault.  _

His hammer smote on the iron forcefully and when he finally finished his work after a few hours his body, mind and heart were numb once again.

Thorin slumped down on his bedroll and nibbled at a loaf of bread when two guards arrived at the forge. “Thorin Oakenshield. You were summoned to the royal wing by command of the king's mother.”

He sighed tiredly, picked himself up and followed the dwarves to his sister. She and Balin sat together in one of the smaller royal rooms with rich decorated walls and furniture. He ignored the gold and gems as best as he could and stared at a big fur on the floor. 

“You wanted to see me, Dís?” he asked without looking up.

“Only the royal family is allowed to address me without my title, so watch your tongue, blacksmith. Unless you want to stop your shameful charade and come back,” his sister replied coldly.

Thorin closed his eyes. The loss of his family was not as bad as the loss of his One, but it hurt nonetheless. The drudgingly suppressed pain in his chest was back. “I'm sorry, your highness. It won't happen again.”

“So you still prefer playing the poor blacksmith instead of resuming your duties as our rightful king. And I thought you were a better dwarf than this.” Disappointment coloured Balin's voice.

“Yes, milord,” he muttered brokenly.

“Why, Thorin?” Dís snapped. “Enlighten us. Why do you hide and force my boy to bear the responsibility of our whole kingdom?”

“You know why. The gold sickness would claim me. Thrór ...”

“... is a shabby excuse!” the female dwarf growled angrily. “Our grandfather lost his One and ...”

Suddenly the door burst open and Dwalin stood there with a fierce expression on his face, “Let him be or ...”

But his brother interrupted him, “This isn't your concern. Leave us!”

“No, he can stay. Thorin just wanted to tell us when exactly he lost his One. Well, brother?” Dís mocked.

In this moment something ripped inside of Thorin. His last strength was washed away by his sister's sarcasm. Tears streamed down his face and his whole body trembled. “You really want to know, your highness?” he asked, his voice painfully low. “I've lost him when I called him a traitor under the influence of this cursed gold lust. When I threatened to kill him with my bare hands. When I favoured a damned rock over him and banished him from Erebor and my side.

“I can’t be king, because I destroy everything that's important. Because of my insult Thranduil abandoned us when the dragon came. I couldn't protect Frerin ... or your husband. I know you blame me for this. You try to hide it but I see it nonetheless. It's my fault the boys don't have a father anymore and you are alone.

“And even if all this didn't happen and Bilbo would love me back, how many dwarves would accept a non-dwarf as their king's consort?”

Dís and Balin stared with wide eyes, when they finally understood. Their shock and pity were clearly visible. Thorin looked away, ashamed of his own weakness. His knees didn't carry his weight anymore and he collapsed into Dwalin's arms. He buried his face in his friend's fur and whispered, “I'm just so tired. It hurts so much. But if I stop loving him, the gold sickness will be back. I would change like Thrór. Please just leave me in peace. It is my burden ... my just punishment.”

Suddenly he felt two small hands in his hair and a gentle voice soothed, “My stubborn dwarf. It's alright. I won't leave you, I promise.”

Thorin couldn't believe his ears. He tried to blink away his tears and slowly he recognised his hobbit. “How much did you hear?” he croaked.

“Everything. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but the door was open and ... and I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I love you, but I was afraid. Please forgive me, my love,” Bilbo smiled and Thorin was lost in his beautiful eyes once more.

“You love me?” he whispered in anxious disbelief.

The hobbit nodded and kissed him tenderly. Just a brief contact, but the moment Thorin felt the soft lips of his One brushing over his own, he forgot everything around him. There were only Bilbo's taste and scent. When the kiss stopped a strange sound, half sob half whimper, escaped him. He was light-headed from his tears, his outburst and just one chastely kiss. The former prince closed his eyes, leaning into his One's caresses, when is hair and bearded cheeks were patted by small hands. He was finally home.

_/\/\/\\_

The next morning Thorin woke up slowly, but he refused to open his eyes. He had dreamed last night, his first dream in the past weeks. Bilbo had said that he loved him, that he would stay with him. The dwarf smiled, remembering how his One declared himself Thorin's caretaker. 

Then with Dwalin's help, the hobbit had brought him to his rooms. He had gotten a proper bath with Bilbo's hands caressing every part of his body. But it hadn't been arousing, only relaxing. After a light meal of fruits and bread they had gone to bed, the soft fabric of the sheets like heaven on his naked skin.

But it was just a dream, a wonderful, impossible dream. A low whine escaped him when the pain in his chest dispelled the peace of the night. Suddenly he felt a hand in his hair, on his cheek and neck before it wandered lower over his chest to his hip and then up his arm to stroke his hair again.

“It wasn't a dream,” he whispered, not daring to hope, his eyes still closed.

Bilbo chuckled, “Of course it wasn't a dream. It's all real. Are you hungry? Dís sent breakfast. I think she feels very bad about her behaviour.”

When Thorin opened his eyes he was greeted with the sight of his One, smiling brightly. He shook his head, “Not really.”

“Pity. I'm starving. You don't mind, do you?” Bilbo answered and his smile became mischievously.

Although the dwarf was a little disappointed to lose the warm presence of his One beside him, he knew of the importance of food for hobbits. “Of course not. Enjoy your meal.”

“I hoped you would say that.” And Bilbo brought his mouth to Thorin's in a passionate kiss. His tongue caressed the dwarf's lips before he slipped between them and explored his lover's mouth. Thorin, completely taken by surprise, could only lie there, moan and take whatever the hobbit was willing to give. All too soon the kiss ended and he looked up, out of breath and with shiny eyes.

“Hmm ... delicious,” Bilbo smiled at the sight of his blushing dwarf. He pulled away the blanket and looked hungrily over the muscular naked body before him. “I will enjoy this meal, that's for sure, khajimel (=gift of (all) gifts). I waited far too long for you and now that you are finally in my bed, I will devour you.” 

The possessive words send shivers down Thorin's spine and he whimpered as Bilbo began to lick and nibble at his neck, up to his ear, all the while running his fingers through his thick, dark mane. 

“You make such lovely sounds. So responsive ... my Thorin. Yes, just like this. Let me take care of you,” the hobbit whispered. His hands wandered lower over the broad chest, combing through soft hair. He shortly followed his fingers with his mouth and sucked first at one and then at the other nipple until they were hard little nubs.

“Bilbo ... oh please. I don't know ...” the dwarf panted. He was stupefied how fast Bilbo could awaken his desires. This was new and a little frightening. No theoretically knowledge could have prepared him for the feelings that his One aroused inside of him. 

The hobbit noticed his lover's uneasiness and pulled back for a moment, soothing him, “It's fine. You're doing great, my love. Just relax. I won't hurt you.” 

They kissed again; a tender dance of tongues and lips. In the meantime Bilbo's knee nudged carefully at Thorin's thighs, until the dwarf opened them and he could sit between the muscular legs. When they stopped kissing the hobbit smiled, “Let me show you, khajimel.” 

The former prince closed his eyes, trusting his One completely. It felt so good to submit to his lover; all his burdens and responsibilities were washed away. He enjoyed the caresses and purred when soft lips returned to his skin, sending wave after wave of hot pleasure through his body.

For a short moment he regretted that he had waited until now, before he felt rather proud that he had saved up himself for his One. The hobbit could claim him now as he saw fit. Thorin's cock hardened at the mere thought that Bilbo would use him for his pleasure. Maybe this could even be his chance to make amends for his actions under the dragon sickness. But was it really redemption when he enjoyed it so much?

As the sensitive skin inside his thighs was licked and kissed, he moaned loudly and spread his legs wider. He opened his eyes and his breathing became even more fitful, when he saw his naked lover between his thighs looking at the dwarf's hard cock with such a hungry expression. 

“Bilbo ... please,” Thorin whined. The pressure in his dick was unbearable. 

“Please what, Thorin?” The hobbit smiled mischievously while he skillfully fondled the heavy balls in front of him. The former prince cried out and bucked his hips up in the air. Bilbo waited until the dwarf had calmed down a little before he asked again, “Tell me. Please what?”

Thorin tried to answer, but it was so difficult to think straight when Bilbo's hot breath ghosted over his oversensitive skin. His cock and balls throbbed and his hole twitched in anticipation. So he bent his legs and spread his cheeks open and whispered, “Claim me. Make me yours. Do whatever you wish to me.”

To say, Bilbo was surprised when his dwarf offered himself so freely, would be an understatement. For a short moment he could only stare, but then he growled low in his throat and pressed his eager mouth down on Thorin's entrance. He sucked and licked and opened the tight hole up while his lover moaned and screamed and begged for more, more, mooooore. 

Suddenly the exquisite torture ended and the former prince whimpered at the loss of contact. But then he saw the bottle of oil in Bilbo's hand and he babbled, “Yes, please ... please more ... I beg you ... Bilbo, please, take me.” An oily finger massaged his hole and he opened his cheeks even wider. He moaned wantonly, when it slipped suddenly inside and began to move carefully.

Bilbo couldn't believe his eyes as his finger disappeared so easily inside of his lover. “Oh khajimel you are truly a gift,” he panted and inserted a second finger with care. He took his time to prepare Thorin and finally felt the muscle slowly slackening. His motions became faster and deeper now while he started his search for the small gland. When he found it, the dwarf howled loudly and began to fuck himself on Bilbo's fingers.

Thorin was lost in his pleasure. His whole body trembled and he tried desperately to scream and breathe at the same time. His arse felt wonderful and oh so full. He looked down and saw that Bilbo had three fingers up his hole. But then he suddenly withdrew. The dwarf whined and reached for his One, but a short slap on his hand stopped him, “Behave, khajimel.”

“Empty ... please,” he whimpered, while a new wave of lust flooded through him, because of the commanding tone of his lover.

“I know. But it's just ... one moment.” Bilbo's mouth pressed against his own. Thorin mewled into the kiss and then something filled him up again. It was hot and hard ... and simply perfect. He arched his back as the hobbit began to thrust deep and fast, aiming for Thorin's prostate. The dwarf moaned with pleasure when his sweet spot was stimulated and screamed hoarsely as his One stroked his cock and he came for the first time in his life. 

Bilbo thrust only two more times before he fell over the edge, too. The sight of his lover's orgasm and the contractions around his cock had been too much. He emptied himself in Thorin's arse and crashed panting and sweating next to his dwarf. He chuckled about the protesting whine as his dick slipped free.  Rising on his elbow to tower over his lover, he lowered himself to Thorin’s lips  and kissed his lover fondly, “You're full of surprises my khajimel.”

“How do you actually know this word?” came the sleepy question.

“Dwalin revealed some endearments in Khuzdul to me. But he didn't warn me that dwarves are such wanton creatures in bed. Or is it just this particular dwarf?” Bilbo teased.

Thorin blushed and stuttered but the hobbit interrupted him with another tender kiss. “I love you, my khajimel ... especially your wanton side.” 

He lightly stroked the muscular side and smiled as his dwarf purred and snuggled deeper into his embrace, dozing off again.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many dialogs with a smutty end ;)

**Chapter 3**

Thorin didn't remember that he fell asleep after their lovemaking, but when he opened his eyes again he was alone in the big bed. He heard voices from the living room and frowned. What had happened while he had been asleep? Should he go over? His clothes weren't here and he couldn't go naked, could he? Eventually he covered himself in one of the blankets and silently opened the door.

Bilbo, only clad in a bathrobe, and Dwalin in full gear stood there side by side with their backs to him. They looked like guardians while Balin, Dís, Fíli and Kíli talked insistently to the two. Suddenly the youngest dwarf spotted his uncle behind them and shouted happily, “You're awake.”

Thorin didn't know whether or not he was allowed a familiar appellation, so he lowered his eyes and mumbled, “Your highness.”

He heard Dís groaning and gripped the blanket tighter. He should not have come out without clothes; it wasn't proper to stand half-naked in front of a king and his royal advisors. He was no part of their family anymore. “I'm sorry. I didn't want to interrupt.”

But before he could retreat and close the door, Bilbo went to him and pressed a chaste kiss upon his lips. “It's alright, khajimel. We didn't want to wake you. Did you sleep well?”

Thorin only nodded, unsure of what all this meant.

The hobbit smiled and stroked his cheek, “Your family was worried about you. And we have to discuss of how to proceed. Erebor still needs you.”

Fear, cold as ice, shot through the dwarf. “I can't be king. Nobody would accept a non-dwarf as king's consort. I'm not giving up on you. You promised you would stay with me. Don't leave me, please,” he panicked and hugged the hobbit, keeping him as close as he could. He didn't care about decency when the blanket slipped down his right shoulder.

“No, Thorin. That’s not what this is all about,” Dís tried to calm him down. “I'm ... we are sorry. We understand now. And Bilbo is highly respected among the dwarves of Erebor. He helped to reclaim our home after all. Your One will stay with you. Nobody will take him away from you. ”

Fíli looked equally apologising and pleadingly at his uncle, “I'm sorry, too. I was frightened when you said you wouldn't be king. I felt betrayed and couldn't understand why you would do this to me. Everything was so new and I didn't know what to do. And the moment you crowned me I was so angry with you. But it's better now. Not alright, but I will get there in time ... if you only could return and help.”

Thorin shook his head. They didn't understand. He couldn't be king. Not anymore. There was something inside him like poison; a fear that he would fail them again and that he would this time destroy everything he loved and cherished for good. It weakened him. Just the mere thought of him being king was too much. It was too dangerous.

“He doesn't mean as king, Thorin,” Bilbo soothed and smiled at his lover's confused expression. “Fíli is King under the Mountain. You would just help him, advise and teach him.”

Thorin looked at Fíli and suddenly he only saw a young dwarf with an enormous task upon his shoulders. When he nodded approvingly his nephew laughed with relief. “Thank you, uncle,” he grinned before he sobered again, “I'm really sorry. If I have known about Bilbo, I would ... by Mahal, I can't even imagine what I would do, if I lost Gruna.”

Bilbo watched the scene with bright eyes. Finally his lover was reunited with his family. “Maybe we should sit. It's more comfortable this way,” he suggested.

“Yes, I will just put on some clothes,” Thorin mumbled and tried to cover himself with the blanket again.

Dwalin, who had been surprisingly silent until now, smiled, “We all saw you naked often enough, lad. And I think our burglar will appreciate it, if you don't wear too much clothing.”

Thorin blushed, when he noticed the longing and sad look in his friend's eyes. But it disappeared, before the others could see it. He became even redder when he saw Bilbo's lewd grin. Yet he didn't protest when the hobbit led him to a cosy couch and arranged them to his liking, with the dwarf in his arms covered by the blanket.

“We never asked what you want, khajimel,” Bilbo said and ran his fingers through the dark locks.

Thorin thought for some moments before he finally admitted, “I'm tired.”

“Take your time. We won't rush you,” Dís assured him, but her brother shook his head.

“No, it's not like that. I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of leading and worrying. I just want my One to take care of me. I don't want to think ... just feel,” he whispered and took a shaky breath when he felt Bilbo's hand caressing his neck soothingly.

“Since when do you have these feelings?” Balin asked softly.

“Since Azanulbizar ... but I couldn't pinpoint them at that time. Only when you taught me about the physical aspects of love between two people, Balin … and the different ways to do it, I suspected that I had the desire to submit … I just didn’t act on it. I buried it deep inside of me because I had to be strong. Our people needed me and then in the years that followed I nearly ... forgot,” Thorin explained with an absent expression, before he looked at his One and smiled shyly, “But I remembered this morning.”

After Thorin's confession they talked about dwarvish culture and Erebor. The hobbit was curious about his new home and one question led to another. So they talked a lot about mining and the meaning of gems, before they enlightened Bilbo about dwarvish traditions and history, especially the history of the Line of Durin. Bilbo wanted to know about Erebor's architecture and the lifestyle of its citizens.

They all did their best to answer the hobbit's many questions. Bilbo was thrilled that the usually so secretive dwarves opened up to him so easily. When he called them on that, Dís laughed, “You're family now.”

“Yes, dwarves speak freely to kin and very close friends. We're just secretive to strangers,” Balin explained.

“Unless you are a little princeling who thinks he has to solve all of the world's problems on his own,” his brother growled. Thorin glared but Dwalin didn't stop, accusing the former prince, “How often did I asked you to tell me what was wrong? And all I got was 'Nothing' or 'I'm fine, don't worry'. And keep that look to yourself. It doesn't work.”

“Shut up,” came the gruff reply and Thorin snuggled deeper into his One's embrace.

Bilbo smiled sadly, “You know Dwalin is right. How can I take care of you, if I don't know what's going on inside of here?” And with that he tapped lightly upon his lover's forehead.

The dwarf sighed and stared on the floor while playing absent minded with Bilbo's fingers. They all waited silently. Eventually Thorin sighed again and began to talk tentatively.

Although or because he had been the heir, he had always had to work so very hard. There were the regal lessons like etiquette or diplomacy, as well as the more common lessons of history and languages, mining, gold-, silver- and blacksmithing, jewelry and of course his weapons training on or off a pony's back.

Every success was expected because he was the future king, yet every failure was followed by disappointment and sometimes even punishment. At this time he didn't think about it. It was his duty as heir to be the best, his fate, because one day he would rule them all and would be responsible for Erebor.

But then his siblings came into his world of duty. Frerin, sweet and adorable Frerin, was Thrór's "Golden Boy", even more so after the death of Thorin’s grandmother, when the king became sicker with gold lust every passing day. Dís was seen as a blessing from Mahal himself, the first girl in their family in three generations.

It would be easy for Thorin to dislike or even despite his siblings, but he didn't. He adored them like everybody else and in return he was their hero.

When he was allowed to be in the throne room when Thranduil arrived, he couldn't have been any prouder. But their guest tried to woo him while Thorin remained completely ignorant to the attempt. He gravely insulted the elvenking by sharing his many presents with his siblings like any good big brother would do. So the day Smaug came, they were abandoned because of a dwarfling who didn’t know anything about desire.

After Erebor's downfall everything changed. They were escapees and Thorin learned for the first time the cruel ways of the world, that most men and even some dwarves liked kicking somebody when he's down. They were forced to sell their skills at an insolently low price. But they starved and it was the only chance to get them at least something to eat.

Then Thrór decided to claim back Khazad-dûm. His grandfather and Frerin were slain and his father went mad and disappeared. Three month later his beloved mother Frera died from grief and Thorin felt the urge to let go for the first time. It was all too much to bear for such a young dwarf, almost still a dwarfling.

But he was Durin's heir and he couldn't fail his people. He had to be strong but sometimes he wished they wouldn't look at him like he was their saviour. Because he didn't have a clue how he should satisfy their expectations.

It became even worse when he was finally of age and Balin explained to him the possibilities in a sexual relationship. But he couldn't choose. He wasn't allowed to be weak, not even in private. He couldn't become a possession of another dwarf, when his people needed him most. And so he had to hide his desires in the deepest parts of his mind. Thorin granted himself only one small concession. He never took a lover, never married and never bonded. Fortunately the thronging voices of the other dwarflords died away after the birth of his nephews. Durin's line would live on.

They went to Ered Luin and there they lived for a short time quite content. Dís became Kemli's wife and Fíli was born soon after their wedding. As fair as Frerin ... his uncle adored the little dwarfling from the first moment he laid eyes on him. A few years later his sister was pregnant again and for the first time in years he dared to hope.

This hope, like his bright future so many years ago, was destroyed with fire. They never knew how it happened, but his sister’s home lit up in flames one night. He could save Fíli and Dís but not Kemli. The healers tried their best but finally had to admit defeat. His injuries and burns were too severe. In the end his brother in law begged for his death ... and so Thorin killed him, murdered him with his own sword.

He helped his sister to raise his nephews. But every time they hugged him or looked at him with such adoration in their eyes he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He was to blame for their father's death. He didn't deserve their affection and still they were his light in the darkness for nearly eighty years.

On their quest to reclaim Erebor he looked out for them as best as he could. But they weren't the only ones. Step by step a small hobbit wormed a way inside of Thorin's heart.

Bilbo had come to his rescue after Azog defeated him. Then in Mirkwood their burglar had put the spiders to rout and ensured their escape out of Thranduil's dungeons. He had faced Smaug and had helped them to win back their home.

So slowly but surely Thorin had fallen head over heels in love with the hobbit, no matter how often he had tried to convince himself, that their little burglar wouldn't stay in Erebor and wasn't interested in an old and tired dwarf. Then the gold sickness had claimed him. And everybody knew only too well how this had ended.

The others didn't interrupt him. Fíli and Kíli wept silently, when he heard how their father had died. When Bilbo kissed him with so much understanding and love after Thorin finished the former prince broke down. He clung fast to the hobbit and cried. He cried for his family and his people; for all the death and loss; for his terrible mistakes and in the end he cried for himself. When his tears finally dried up he was emotionally exhausted, but for the first time in one hundred fifty years he could breathe.

“So you want to be Bilbo's submissive?” Dwalin asked with an emotionless expression.

Thorin gulped nervously but nodded nonetheless. Everyone present knew that this decision would change all of his relationships. Dominants watched over their lovers possessively. They didn't share, not even with close friends or family members.

The hobbit had just agreed that the former prince could advise Fíli in the future, but whether privately or at court would be Bilbo's decision alone. The dwarves were certain that they would see Thorin only under very strictly regulated circumstances. Every other contact would most likely be forbidden or they would need an explicit permission from the dominant.

The former prince looked at Dwalin and silently pleaded for his friend to understand and to forgive him that he willingly sacrificed their friendship and love for his own selfish desires. But he couldn't help himself. He would always choose his One over anybody else, and he needed to submit.

The warrior smiled assuringly, lowly addressing the hobbit, “Take care of him. Thorin deserves to be happy.”

Bilbo nodded and tenderly kissed his lover's dark hair. “I know. I won't hurt him,” he promised, unaware of Dwalin's pain.

_/\/\/\\_

The next morning Thorin was woken by his blanket slowly being pulled away from his back and fingers drawing invisible patterns on his skin. He smiled. Bilbo and he had two wonderful weeks before Fíli would seek his advice. (“I've managed until now I will manage for the next weeks, too.”)

“Good morning, my love.” The dwarf purred when a mouth joined the fingers. The hobbit chuckled, “So responsive. Unfortunately there are still some things we have to discuss before we can enter our new relationship. Come on. Up you get.”

Mouth and fingers disappeared. Thorin pouted ... and then squeaked when his arse was slapped. He stared fully awake now at Bilbo, who was clad in simple tunic and trousers. “Now, Thorin. Don't make me wait,” his lover said in a stern voice as he went into the living room. “And without the blanket,” he added on an afterthought.

Thorin gulped. They just started their day and his cock already began to swell. Hastily he crawled out of the bed and rushed after his One. Bilbo sat at the same couch as the day before ... with a mischievous smile and a wooden box next to him.

“Kneel in front of me, khajimel,” he ordered softly.

As royal heir, Thorin had never kneeled before anybody. But now it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was so easy to follow his lover’s commands; he didn’t even have to think about it, his body reacted purely on instinct. He bowed his head, looking down. A perfect image of submission.

“So obedient,” Bilbo mused and lifted the bearded chin with two fingers. “How much do you know about the relationship between a dominant and a submissive?”

“I’m yours. At your service. At your very command,” came the determined reply.

The hobbit gazed at his lover. “I have only as much power over you, as you are willing to give me. First of all we need two safewords, one to slow down and another to stop. When did you feel safest in the past?”

Thorin thought for a moment. He felt safe with his One, but he doubted that “Bilbo” was a good choice under these circumstances. “With my mother Frera and my grandmother Rís …” he revealed finally. “Maybe ... Rís to slow down and Frera to stop?”

“Alright,” Bilbo agreed, “Next … when do you want to submit?”

“Always?!” The dwarf furrowed his brow, clearly confused about the question.

His One chuckled lowly, “Really? Do you want me to play with you in court for everyone to see … to publicly claim you as my pet?”

Thorin gulped and blushed when his cock twitched and swelled even more, while he imagined himself at Fíli's court; naked and at Bilbo's feet with a jealous and fuming Thranduil watching them.

“My naughty dwarf,” Bilbo teased. “Unfortunately this would not be very proper. But I would like to show the others that you’re mine.”

“There are various braids for such a relationship … for both the master and the … the other partner ... to show the level of submission.” Thorin explained and looked humbly at his One.

The hobbit nodded and smiled brightly, “I would be honoured.”

They talked for almost an hour and agreed on all important points regarding their intended relationship. They would wear their (rather moderate) braids for their dominant-submissive relationship publicly. But otherwise they would only act on it in the privacy of their rooms.

In here Thorin wasn't allowed to wear a stitch of clothing without his lover's permission. He would obey every command and submit to his lover in their lovemaking as well as in every other private affair. Since the dwarf didn't know exactly what he desired, but Bilbo had had some experience, they agreed to learn together what they both wanted and needed from each other.

There was only one thing, gravel damage or massive pain, that neither Thorin nor Bilbo wanted to experience. The dwarf had had enough serious injuries in his life and the hobbit would never hurt his submissive in such a way. But this didn't exclude an occasional spanking. The former prince's cock twitched every time he thought about the slap on his arse this morning.

Bilbo on the other hand would take care of every physical need. He would make sure that his dwarf ate, bathed and slept in sufficient amounts. He would also help his submissive whenever his nightmares or his grieve would become too strong. Besides that, Thorin would seek out his dominant immediately whenever he felt the need to be punished.

After their talking they eat a hearty meal, with Thorin sitting at his One's feet, being fed by him. He felt like a big, content cat and lovingly licked at Bilbo’s fingers more than once during their meal.

Suddenly the dwarf asked, “May I give you an endearment, too?”

“And what would you like to call me?” Bilbo asked amused.

“There are some that would suit you. Garifâl or shomakhâl or guchirel,” Thorin answered while he nuzzled into his lover’s hand. He purred when the hobbit petted his chin and stroked his short beard.

“What do they mean?” Bilbo was curious, because Dwalin hadn’t told him any of these names during their brief Khuzdul lesson.

When the shy answer came, Thorin spoke in such a low voice that Bilbo nearly didn't hear him. “Owner … guardian … master of all masters.” After some moments of silence; insecure, icy-blue eyes looked up. The hobbit stroked comfortingly over dark locks. “I wouldn't call them endearments ... rather titles. But I will happily bear every name you want to give me, khajimel.”

Thorin smiled and when Bilbo kissed him, full of passion and plundered his mouth, he couldn't stop himself from purring and moaning. Suddenly he felt a leg against his semi hard cock and immediately began to rub against it.

The hobbit chuckled, “My naughty dwarf. You hump my leg like a dog in heat.” He laughed even more, when Thorin whimpered affirmatively and moved faster. “But you want something more, don't you? You want this,” and he stroked his cock through his trousers lazily.

Thorin nodded and hungrily licked his lips, “Please, my garifâl ...” And he bent forward caressing the hard bulge, breathed over it and nuzzled against it lovingly.

Before Bilbo got too sidetracked he gripped the dwarf's hair and pulled him away. He ignored the desperate whine from his lover and opened the wooden box he had placed next to himself beforehand. He took out a simple leather collar. “Hmm ... we have to change one last detail, before I will let you taste me. You behave like a dog, so you should look like one.”

He grinned as Thorin whimpered and panted, still rubbing his hard cock against his dominant's leg, “Oh yes, please ... mark me ... I'm yours, your pet ... whatever you want ... I ahhh ... please.” And the dwarf tilted his head back to present his throat.

“I love it when you beg. Don't move now. Yes such an enticing neckline”, the hobbit released the dark strands and smiled proudly when Thorin wailed, but stopped his movements nonetheless, holding himself in position, while Bilbo fastened the collar around his lover's neck and traced it gently. “And now it is even more beautiful. You look so good with my collar. Let me hear you begging again, my pet.”

“Please, let me suck you ... ah let me move ...oh please, I need your cock ... inside ... inside my mouth ... please, pleeeease.” His body trembled, but he didn't move without permission.

The hobbit slowly freed his hard dick and this time he allowed his lover to indulge it ... to lick and suck and nibble his hard erection.

“Yes, that's my good little dog. Oh yes ... yessss ... You love this, don't you? Mhhh ... I can't believe you never did this before.” Bilbo looked down at his submissive. He couldn't keep his eyes from this proud and handsome dwarf; on his knees in front of him; desperate to suck him dry. He loved everything about this ... as he loved Thorin. His wanton pet tried to please him eagerly yet a little bit clumsily with his mouth.

Suddenly the hobbit noticed that his lover only moved his mouth and not his trembling lower body. Encouragingly he touched the dwarf's erection with his shin again and chuckled pantingly as the frantic rubbing continued and the moans of his submissive sent wonderful vibrations through his dick.

Thorin sucked and ran this tongue over the cock. Bilbo's scent and taste were intoxicating. He just wanted more and more and more. When he felt the shin of his lover at his erection again, he moaned in pleasure and moved without thinking. He allowed his One to fuck his mouth, while humping his leg.

When the hobbit warned him that he was about to release and tried to retreat, he clung even stronger to Bilbo’s trousers and whined hungrily when the warm seed flooded his tongue and throat.

“Come for me, my khajimel,” the hobbit panted and watched his lover in awe. His dick slipped out of Thorin's mouth and the muffled moans changed to hoarse screams. The dwarf was lost in his pleasure and rubbed harder and harder, until he came all over his One’s leg. He collapsed, shuddering and whimpering, on the floor.

Bilbo smiled at the picture. Thorin, once so regal and commanding, looked so debauched right now. The hobbit lovingly ran his fingers through the black and silver strands, complimenting his lover, “You did so well. I'm so proud of you, my sweet pet.” He laughed, when Thorin didn’t move but simply purred at this caress.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's first punishment ...

**Chapter 4**

Thorin leaned against Bilbo's leg with his head in the other's lap. The hobbit read a book and ran his fingers gently through the dark mane, playing with the new braids of his submissive. It was relaxing not to think, not to rule, not to plan. But the dwarf's thoughts always drifted into unpleasant directions. His life had never been easy and sometimes he was convinced that this was just a dream and he would wake up any moment. 

They had lived in their new relationship for a week now and Thorin had learned so much about pleasure, desire and his own needs during these days. Although Bilbo was the dominant the dwarf never felt used. On the contrary! The hobbit worshipped him and Thorin sometimes believed he exploited his One.

It didn't feel right ... especially not after betraying and threatening his hobbit in the past; nearly killing him and then seeing him broken and bleeding during the battle. These thoughts had become stronger over the last two days. The dwarf sighed sadly and rubbed his cheek gently at Bilbo's trousers to banish these horrid memories.

The hobbit stopped his caresses and asked, “What's the matter?”

“Nothing,” Thorin mumbled as a matter of routine. 

Suddenly the hand in his hair pulled him up painfully. The dwarf reacted instinctively and followed his dominant's unspoken command. Before he could think about what was happening to him, he lay over Bilbo's lap with his arse up in the air. After five sharp slaps across his bottom, his face burned with the humiliation of being spanked like a naughty dwarfling.

“And? Do you still have nothing to tell me?” The hobbit asked with a dangerously low voice.

Thorin gulped and when he didn't answer fast enough, he got five more slaps for his hesitation.

“Please, stop. I’ll tell you,” he squirmed and panted, his cock trapped between Bilbo’s tights; twitching and hardening.

“I ... want ... I need to be punished, please my guchirel (master of masters),” the dwarf whimpered.

“Since when?” came the icy reply.

“Two days,” Thorin confessed ashamed. He had failed his One after just a few days. He hung his head even lower and hid his face behind the thick curtain of his hair.

“Alright. Five more slaps for each day. Count,” his dominant commanded and hit the already abused flesh hard. When the dwarf mumbled quietly “One” his lover pulled at the dark hair until he could watch Thorin's face closely. 

“Speak up. I want to hear you. Again!” Bilbo hissed. 

The former prince whined, when he heard the hard voice of his hobbit, but this time he counted in a clear voice after each slap.

After Bilbo was finished he allowed Thorin to slide back down to the floor. His submissive looked up pleadingly, “I'm sorry. Please my garifâl (owner) ... don't be angry.”

The hobbit sighed wearily, “I'm not angry, only disappointed. You did so well these past few days and you agreed to be honest with me.  Yet you still keep things from me. This relationship can’t work this way, so please tell me now . Why do you need to be punished?”

Thorin chewed at his bottom lip. “I wronged you so much after we reclaimed Erebor. I almost threw you off the rampart and … and you saved my life in the battle nonetheless; although I had betrayed and banished you.

“I thought I had lost you forever. It hurt so much, but I couldn’t forget you, because my grief was the only thing that had kept the gold lust at bay. 

“But then you were alive and … you took me back. I was so happy but at the same time I couldn’t believe that you really wanted me and I swore to myself that I would be worthy of your love. 

“I thought I could make up for my mistakes, but ... but you always make me feel so good and ... it's always you who pleasures me and I only lie there and I never even try to please you … It should be me who serves you, offering my body for your amusement and not the other way around. But I only greedily take everything you give me, without ever giving anything back.”

Bilbo thought for a few moments and watched his submissive, who looked away in shame. He knew that his dwarf felt guilty about his actions when under the gold sickness. He had noticed the change in Thorin’s behaviour during the last two days. But he had wanted his lover to ask for an obviously needed punishment, instead of deciding for him. It seemed that he had underestimated the stubbornness of dwarves once again. So the hobbit had confronted him; already a course of action in his mind.

“Go to the bathroom and fetch a big and a small towel. Then come back,” he ordered with a stern voice.

The dwarf rushed to the other room and when he returned his lover stood at the table.

Thorin paled instantly. Bilbo held a bowl of shaving foam in his hand; a brush and a razor lay before him on the wooden surface, reflecting the light threateningly.

“Am I correct that dwarves are shaved when they disgrace and shame themselves or their families?” Bilbo asked coldly.

The dwarf croaked out, “Yes.” He gripped the towels tighter; his gaze was stuck on the razor. But he had asked for a punishment and it was Bilbo’s decision what it should be. He wouldn’t back down just because he didn’t like it. He would do whatever his hobbit demanded of him, even give up his beard. He deserved it … what was a little hair compared to his One?

But his determination didn’t change that he was scared. The loss of his beard would be a visible proof of his failure for a long time. Dwarvish hair grew very slowly. It would take at last six months before his beard would be as long as it was now.

When Bilbo led him to the couch he followed without any resistance. His dominant put the big towel on the cushioned surface and placed him on it. Finally Thorin sat with his feet also positioned on the covered couch; his groin exposed and he nervously looked at the hobbit.

Suddenly he wasn't all that certain that he really knew about his dominant's intensions, yelping in surprise when he felt the brush on his pubic hair. He watched the sharp blade with wide eyes, while inch by inch of his groin's pale skin was revealed.

His cock began to twitch when Bilbo carefully worked downwards. The soft brush and foam caressed his heavy balls. Immediately they began to pull tight. The mere thought of the razor on his most private parts make him shudder, but at the same time it was unbelievable erotic.

When Bilbo massaged the now smooth skin, Thorin moaned low in his throat. His fists clenched around the towel and he desperately tried to shut out the pleasure. But the talented fingers found his most sensitive spots easily and the first drops of precum already glistened at the tip of his dick, his balls were throbbing and swelling even more.

The dwarf looked pleadingly at his One. This was a punishment. He couldn’t be lost in his pleasure, not this time. When he felt the first signs of his orgasm overwhelming him, he openly wept. He was failing his dominant again.

The hobbit watched his dwarf closely. When he saw his tears, he picked up a long thin leather band. Within a heartbeat it lay firmly around the base of his genitals; preventing the dwarf from coming. He merely raised an eyebrow at the quiet “Thank you, my guchirel (master of masters)” from his submissive and answered with an emotionless voice, “I didn't do it for you. Your body is mine to do as I see fit. When I want to play with you and torture you until you are mad with pleasure, I will do so. Now, turn around. On your knees and spread your cheeks.”

Thorin struggled to obey. His cock was painfully hard, but thanks to Bilbo he hadn’t come, yet. He lent his upper body over the backrest of the couch and presented his arse to his dominant. He whimpered when he felt the brush against his hole and the sensitive skin that surrounded it, closely followed by the cool metal of the razor, scraping over it again and again.

Bilbo smiled when he finally put away his shaving utensils and inspected his handiwork. Not one single hair remained. After the inspection he massaged the freshly shaved skin with oily hands and began to spread the tight hole in front of him with first one then two fingers; enjoying the desperate sounds of his submissive.

The dwarf keened loudly whenever his prostate was stimulated. But he was well aware, that Bilbo didn’t do it to bring him pleasure, not this time. No, this was finally a punishment … a humiliation … he was nothing more than a toy … to be used for his master’s amusement. It was exactly what he wanted … what he needed. And he loved Bilbo all the more for it.

When he felt the hobbit’s hard erection at his entrance, he spread his legs even wider to give him better access. It burned. Bilbo had only prepared him with two fingers after all. Thorin cried out loudly, but didn’t flinch away. He would serve his dominant and the pain helped him to concentrate solely on his dominant; so that he wouldn’t get lost in his own pleasure like all the other times before.

He clenched his inner muscles around the cock that nested deep inside of him, like the hobbit had taught him and smiled faintly, when he heard an exited moan from his master. He met every hard and fast stroke of his lover in equal measure and arched his spine to take him even deeper. All the time he didn’t hold back his moans, whimpers and screams, because he knew Bilbo loved how vocal he was during their playtime. So it didn’t take long for his hobbit to cum inside of him; flooding him with his warm seed.

Bilbo smiled proudly at his panting dwarf. Thorin hadn’t just accepted his punishment freely, although he had clearly been shocked by the razor, but he had looked after the hobbit’s pleasure purposefully, not just lain there and endured the whole procedure.

But Bilbo wasn’t finished yet and tenderly caressed the shaved groin. “Do you know what this means in the Shire, Thorin?” he asked with his voice as gentle as his fingers.

The dwarf whined, “No … no, guchirel (master of masters), I don’t.”

“It shows that I’m willing to share you. Would you like this? Hmm? … Another cock deep in your arse, while I'm watching? Maybe I will invite Dwalin to play with you … or Bofur. You know he was always so nice to me during our quest and it would only be fair to offer something in return.”

The former prince closed his eyes, arousing images filling his head ... Dwalin kissing him, caressing and licking his skin. The thick cock of his friend deep inside his arse, while his One would fuck his submissive's mouth.

But the hobbit's words had to be a test. No dominant would share his pet so easily. So he tried to force back his fantasy, pushing his longing for the warrior to the back of his mind. Thorin doubted that Dwalin would ever submit to their burglar in order to be able to be with him.

“No, I’ve got a better idea. What do you think of Thranduil? Would you like his long, hard elvencock up your hole? I’m sure he would be delighted to fuck you hard and fast.” Bilbo’s voice was deceitfully soft as he ran his fingers lovingly down the dwarf’s sweaty spine.

Thorin whimpered, when the Woodlandking superseded Dwalin in his mind, golden strands caressing his groin, tickling his cock and balls before a huge erection would fill him up. He shook his head frantically – he would be strong, he didn't desire the damn elf, but solely his master. “Please … not Thranduil … I'm yours, only yours.”

“Really? Are you sure?” the hobbit asked innocently, being fully aware that his pet protested far too loudly for his words to be entirely honest. “Tell me what’s going on in your beautiful head when you think of Thranduil, khajimel.”

The dwarf tried to concentrate while his One played with his wet hole. He could feel Bilbo's cum dripping out of him. And small fingers distributed it; together with his own precum over the skin of his balls and perineum.

Then Thorin began to talk, completely out of breath and half mad with pleasure because of his dominant’s soft caresses, “Thran … Thranduil goes to you and demands me. He wants me in his bed. You call for me and when I come to you I'm completely naked and … and collared. Thranduil stares at me hungrily … he wants me so badly. 

“But … but you only laugh and take me in front of him … to prove to him that I’m yours. And I’m ... on my knees and hands while you fuck me … and I beg you to go faster and harder. It feels so good and I moan and pant and scream only for you. 

“And Thranduil … he is furious, but he can’t do anything. He will never have me, because I’m yours. Oh please, my garifâl (owner). Pleeeeease. My hole burns for you. Use me again. I’m begging you.”

Suddenly Thorin felt two fingers slide inside him again and then finally the leather band came off. He cried out when even more blood rushed into his dick and whimpered when a third and fourth finger found their way inside him, dispelling the confusing images of Dwalin and the damn elf.

A voice in his head screamed for him to buck his hips, to create the much needed friction, but he forced himself to remain motionless. His whole body trembled, fingers desperately clutching onto the backrest of the couch, but he didn’t move, because his One hadn't allowed him to do so, yet. 

Bilbo looked at his lover in awe, how he squirmed and tried to behave; how he waited for his permission. The hobbit nibbled on his neck and whispered, “How can you say you don’t give me pleasure? Look at you, my khajimel. So wanton, so eager to please.

“I love how you tremble under me when I take you … how you scream and moan for my cock, my mouth, my hands. Your whole body begs me to take you, to claim you. I don’t know what I enjoy more … your sweet mouth or your tight little arse. The mere thought that it’s me who can turn the great, stern and majestic Thorin Oakenshield into such a debauched creature … it’s addictive. You’re mine and mine alone. You did so well. Come, my pet. Fuck yourself on my fingers.” 

Thorin keened and instantly moved his hips. He screamed when Bilbo found his prostate and caressed it mercilessly. His whole body was on fire. His One’s words echoed inside of his head and were branded into his mind.

Tears streamed down his face and he just wanted to cum, to release this torturous and sweet pressure; but still he had not been given permission to do so. Only when he felt Bilbo’s teeth on his neck marking him, his orgasm finally crushed over him.

He slumped down, trapped between the backrest and his One's body. His arse felt wonderfully used and sore. He moaned lowly when the new mark on his neck was gently licked and kissed. “Do you feel better now, love?”

Thorin nodded tiredly but with a grateful expression. He nuzzled the hobbit's hand and murmured, “Yes. Thank you, my shomakhâl (guardian).”


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Bilbo/Dwalin/Thorin smut ... and the first part of my serie is finished.
> 
> I wrote this fic a long time ago. This was my very first fic to be honest and I changed the text a lot. I hope I don't blunder the plot and my explanations still make sense. If not, please feel free and ask me anything and/or point out the tricky scenes to me. Thanks for reading :3

**Chapter 5**

Thorin walked along the corridor to Bilbo’s and his rooms. The extensive apartment had been a gift from Fili for the hobbit's help during their quest. It was big enough for the both of them, quite luxurious in fact. They lived there together, because his One had made it clear that he wanted his submissive at his disposal all the time.

And while Thorin, as the king's advisor, had his own rooms, he rarely went there. They were rich decorated with valuable metals and gems, just like it was expected for his position. But otherwise they were rather impersonal and without the slightest homely quality. He preferred the cosy atmosphere of his master’s living-space over the cold treasures in his.

Four weeks ago the former prince had returned to court. It was still very exhausting, but now he had a safe haven, where he could relax and regenerate. The hobbit always made sure that he was well rested and took care of all of Thorin's needs, especially his need for touches and affections. In the past the dwarf hadn't allowed himself such distractions; hadn't even had time for them.

But it seemed that his One had opened a secret door inside of him. Now he simply couldn't get enough physical contact and caresses. Every evening he begged with his body as well as with words for Bilbo to touch him, to use him. On some days his dominant would downright consume Thorin. He loved these days, when he would serve his master and concentrated solely on him.

But on other nights the hobbit would thoroughly play with him, teasing him with hands, mouth and toys. Although he enjoyed the slow torture, it often led his imagination in dangerous directions. Whenever he was fucked by one of their bigger butt plugs, he couldn’t stop fantasising about Dwalin being with them. It got even worse since his return to court, where he saw his friend almost every day. Of course they minimized their contact as much as possible, but he still noticed the restrained longing of the warrior. But Thorin had chosen his One and he would do so time and time again.

When he arrived at the door he wordlessly slipped inside. The hobbit sat on the couch, reading one of his many books and smiling brightly when he saw his lover. The dwarf felt the intense gaze of his One on his back, when he disappeared into their bedroom.

He undressed and got calmer with each item of clothing he took off; pushing back his unsettling feelings for Dwalin and ridding himself off his responsibility as royal advisor. When he was finally naked, he picked up his collar from the nightstand and went back into the living room.

There the former prince kneeled before his dominant, presenting the thick leather band. Bilbo caressed the pale skin of his lover's neck lovingly and then put the collar around it. Thorin purred lowly in his throat and nuzzled into the small hands when Bilbo was finished. He loved the feeling of the leather on his skin. It reminded him, that he was cared for, that he belonged; that his One was here with him and that his love was returned.

The hobbit chuckled at Thorin's open affections, "My khajimel. I'm glad you're back. How was the meeting?"

"Tiring ... but slightly productive." The dwarf leant into the soft caresses of his One and sighed happily. How had he lived with all this pressure in the past, without any chance to get rid of it? Of course Balin and Dwalin had helped him, but ... Thorin furrowed his brow when his thoughts returned to his best friend.

"But there is more worrying you than a tiring meeting." It wasn't a question. Bilbo knew that his submissive responded better to a direct statement. It was still difficult for the dwarf to come to him with his problems. They would work on that until Thorin was able to open up of his own accord, but now wasn’t the time for it. Now his guiding hand was needed.

“I'm just weary. Please, garifâl, just make me forget anything but you,” the former prince pleaded and hoped that his hobbit would drop the subject. Fortunately his master nodded, fetching a big, golden butt plug and a flask of oil from their bedroom.

“Come, pet,” Bilbo tapped his tight, after returning to the sofa. For a brief moment he thought that he saw uncertainty in his submissive's eyes and decided that he would watch Thorin very closely today. Then he felt he heavy weight of the dwarf over his lap and spread the cheeks in front of him with oily hands, licking his lips when he saw the puckered entrance of his lover. It was always such an enticing sight how it twitched and begged to be played with. He took the oil and aimed a big drop exactly at the hole.

The former prince whimpered, when he felt his One's thumb distributing the oil around and inside of his entrance. He always loved the first stretching, the slight burn before he began to slacken and welcomed whatever his dominant inserted.

Usually Bilbo would immediately search for his dwarf's prostate, but this time he just played with the ring of muscle. First one and then two fingers slipped teasingly in and out. Finally his thumb joined them and the hobbit concentrated on stretching his submissive without aiming for instant pleasure.

Thorin desperately moaned for more and pushed his bottom up, trying to get Bilbo's fingers deeper. But the hobbit withdrew them completely and slapped his pet across his bottom.

The dwarf whined, "Please, I'm so empty ... I'll behave, but please fill me up again."

Suddenly he felt the unyielding tip of the butt plug against his entrance and panted wantonly when it was slowly pushed inside. Despite wanting nothing more than to trust his hips, Thorin forced himself to lie still on his dominants lap. He knew that the hobbit would withdraw the toy as soon as the former prince misbehaved again. When the plug finally nested deep inside of the dwarf’s arse, he lightly trembled, begging lowly for permission to move.

Bilbo smiled mischievously. “You want to fuck yourself on the toy, don’t you, my pet? You love to be filled and stretched. Come on, Thorin. Move. Show me how much you need to be fucked by something hard and big,” he murmured his voice unusually deep and raspy. The hobbit had noticed in their first weeks that his submissive reacted even more wantonly to such a dark timbre.

The dwarf keened loudly and followed the order immediately, trusting his hips desperately up and down. All the while Bilbo growled filthy things, encouraging him to fuck himself harder and faster. The more Thorin was led into his world of desire and submission by the sinful voice so similar to Dwalin’s, the more his fantasies of the warrior being with them returned. The former prince sobbed his master’s name, trying to push the forbidden images back.

The hobbit soothingly ran his fingers through the dark mane and trusted the golden toy even more fiercely into his pet, whispering darkly, “Come for me, my love.” But Bilbo’s satisfied grin froze, when his dwarf came all over his stomach, screaming hoarsely the name of his best friend.

Thorin realised his mistake almost instantly and slipped from his master’s lap immediately, crouching on the floor and begging hastily, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I don’t betray you, I swear. I’m yours, only yours. I bear any punishment, but please don’t abandon me. I won’t see Dwa … him again, if you don’t want me to. He and anybody else will understand. They know that I’m yours, that I choose you and …”

The hobbit looked shocked, when he suddenly understood what his submissive implied. “Stop, Thorin,” he said sternly and frowned when the former prince slumped down even more.

During their quest Bilbo had noticed that the two dwarves had a very close relationship. Sometimes their looks and gestures had been so full of an underlying affection and devotion, that Bilbo had been sure that they were lovers. And if he didn't know that Thorin had been a virgin when he had touched him for the first time, he would still believe that.

“You choose me over your family and friends, when we became lovers?” he asked lowly.

“When you accepted me as your submissive, my garifâl. I’m yours alone … your possession. We all were surprised that you allowed me to attend to the meetings without you. But we followed the rules. Nobody ever touched me and they spoke to me no more than absolutely necessary. You are my One and they will never challenge your claim over me,” the dwarf tried to convince his master.

“But you love Dwalin and he loves you, too.” It wasn’t a question and after a few moments Thorin nodded, but at the same time he whispered brokenly, “But I love you more. You're my One and ..." He lay his head in Bilbo's lap and tried to nuzzled the limp cock through the fabric of the light trousers, trying to prove his conviction to his dominant.

Bilbo stopped the rather clumsily attempts to arouse him and sighed while he caressed his submissive's hair, “I need some time to think. Don’t look so frightened, I don’t abandon you, my silly dwarf.” He kissed his pet tenderly, trying to sooth him and smiled gently.

“I will go for a walk, while you will make yourself presentable again. That means you bath thoroughly and redo your braids. I want your lovely cock hard and leaking for me. But you're not allowed to cum or to touch the butt plug. I will be gone for an hour. If you are ready before I’m back, you will wait here, kneeling and with lowered eyes. Understood?”

“Yes, my guchirel,” Thorin whispered.

“Then go and take your time. I want you to look perfect. And don’t worry, my love. Enjoy your bath. When I return, we will play until you are mad with desire.”

The dwarf nodded and forced his doubts and any thoughts of Dwalin back once again. He trembled, when he stood up and went to the bathroom. The golden toy moved deep inside him and brushed against his prostate, sending soft waves of pleasure through his body. He moaned low in his throat; enjoying the fullness of his arse. But at the same time he was determined to accomplish his task. He would show his dominant that he was compliant, that he deserved to be his pet.

In the bathroom Thorin hesitated for a brief moment, slowly taking off his water sensitive leather collar. As royal advisor he could hide his neck behind his robes, but now as Bilbo's pet he felt strangely naked … even uneasy without it. The first time he had shyly asked his master for another, a metal one that he could wear in the water, but the hobbit had just been amused by his odd wish and had refused him (“It's only for a few minutes, khajimel.”).

The bath was one big caress of soap, water and his hands. He began with his dark mane, removing his new beads, the signs of Bilbo's ownership. Then he massaged his scalp and hair with the hobbit's favourite shampoo. His One loved the earthy and spicy scent that matched the dwarf's inherent smell. He entwined his dark strands and combed them carefully until they fell over his back like a curtain of black and silver.

When he braided his hair anew, he thought about his master. Bilbo hadn’t been angry at him, not even surprised that his pet loved someone else. He was so different from a normal dominant. He wasn't overly possessive, but rather protective towards his submissive. Additionally the hobbit forgave many things that a dwarf would punish harshly. Thorin had been disciplined only thrice during these past weeks and not very hard at that. So the extrication afterwards hadn't last for long.

The former prince frowned. He shouldn't be so ungrateful, but happy to have such an understanding and affectionate dominant. A pet wasn't allowed to criticise his master. It had to obey every command thankfully.

His One deserved a perfect submissive, not one that questioned his behaviour ... and most definitely not one that fantasised about another dwarf, although he knew that he could never have him. From now on he had to avoid Dwalin at all cost, before it was too late and he would lose his hobbit. Determined to banish his friend from his mind, he concentrated on his given task.

He took his time to explore his own body with soapy hands; brushing nipples, trailing his fingers through his soft chest hair and drawing invisible patterns over arms and legs. After the water cleared away the last remnants of the fruity soap, he massaged scented oil into his skin to keep it from harm and make it smoother for his hobbit's touch. In the past he had never noticed how sensitive his skin was, how little touches of his fingers could send shudders down his spine. He purred lowly in his throat and enjoyed his ministrations with closed eyes.

When he finally gripped his already hardening cock, he threw back his head and panted hoarsely. He stroked up and down with one hand, while fondling his heavy balls with the other and imagined his One. His hobbit's hot mouth on his skin and his small, clever hands, being able to drive him crazy. Bilbo always knew how to touch him, how to make him lose control, until he just needed his lover's perfect dick deep inside of him.

He stroked his erection as instructed, until precum glistened on its tip. When he felt the first signs of orgasm coursing through his body, he withdrew his hands completely out of breath. But his cock stood hard and proud; leaking just like his One had ordered.

When he returned (finally properly collared again) into the living room with his head humbly lowered, he saw out of the corners of his eyes that his master had returned already. He was sitting on the sofa, reading in his book once more. So Thorin kneeled at his hobbit's feet, waiting patiently.

His dominant chuckled, “Always so obedient. Close your eyes. Now, bent forward and raise your sweet bottom. Exactly like that. Spread your legs. Yes, such a good pet.”

Bilbo took his time to admire his lover’s form, when his pet arranged himself on the couch besides him, presenting his private parts, still kneeling on the floor with his upper body on the seating surface. The hobbit leaned forward and tenderly brushed away the dark mane, exposing his submissive's pale neck and shoulders.

He teased the sensitive skin of the muscular backside with fingertips and lips, slowly wandering downwards, enjoying the soft and scented skin. Although he had shaved Thorin's groin five weeks ago, it was still rather smooth to the touch. He kneaded the firm arse casually and slowly trusted the golden toy in and out of the stretched hole.

The former prince’s low moans turned into wanton whines, when his master’s clever tongue fluttered over his puckered entrance. “Please … please, more. I’m begging you. … It feels so good,” he pleaded almost lost in his pleasure. A sharp slap across his bottom brought him back.

“You are allowed to moan, whimper and scream as much as you want, but I don’t want to hear another … inappropriate word from you. I have had enough of this today. You don't want to get punished, do you? It would make a bad impression on our guest,” the hobbit ordered with a stern voice.

Thorin nodded hesitantly. For a brief moment he was tempted to provoke a punishment. But he scraped the idea immediately, unsure whether or not his dominant was just playing a mind-game with him. He would humiliate his master, if he disobeyed him on purpose. But did they really have an audience? He hadn’t seen anybody, when coming back from the bathroom. But he hadn’t paid much attention to his surroundings either. So he tried to listen for any signs that indicated another person in their rooms.

In the meantime the hobbit had put aside the butt plug and spread his pet's arse cheeks to show off his twitching hole. He lightly circled the sensitive skin with a finger, before he pushed two of them slowly inside, wriggling them teasingly.

The dwarf tilted his head back and groaned greedily, begging wordlessly for more. But his master only chuckled and scissored his digits, stretching his pet wide open. It felt even more intense because his eyes were closed. His other senses tried to compensate his loss of vision and suddenly he heard something: low pants, which definitely did not come from Bilbo.

Were these just fidgets of his imagination? No, there it was again. They weren't alone! The former prince whimpered loudly, when he realised that his master was playing with him in front of an audience ... a small audience, but an audience nonetheless. Then, without thinking, Thorin spread his legs even wider and pushed his arse high in the air, before he reached back to hold his cheeks open.

Bilbo growled low in his throat, “I didn't give you permission to move, pet,” and placed a sharp slap directly on the twitching hole. When his submissive groaned wantonly and offered his bottom for further blows, the hobbit grinned mischievously and continued his spanking, aiming his slaps at the lose entrance. “You are such (slap, slap) a naughty dwarf. (slap) Do you like (slap) to be shown off? (slap) Yes. (slap, slap) Look how you (slap) squirm (slap) and beg (slap) for more.”

Thorin screamed hoarsely after each blow, but didn't let go of his arse, presenting himself to Bilbo and their unknown guest. He shut out the world, only concentrating on his master, his punishment, the humiliation, but most of all that somebody witnessed his One's claim over him.

His cock and balls throbbed and ached. When he felt the first waves of his orgasm cursing through him, he keened loudly, trying to warn his dominant that he was close. His hips bucked frantically and despite his efforts he began to lose himself in the exiting pleasure-pain. But before he could cum, Bilbo constricted the base of his genitals with one hand.

The former prince sobbed desperately into the cushioned surface of the couch, while his hobbit held him on the brink of his climax, not allowing him release, but not forcing it back either. His whole body trembled, but he held himself steady, although he wanted nothing more than to give in.

“You know, khajimel, first I was disappointed that you didn't tell me about your love for Dwalin. You kept it secret, so I had to assume that you didn't trust me enough. It meant that I had failed you as your master. I realised that I needed help. So I went to see Dwalin,” his master explained with a casual voice and pointedly ignored the frantic sounds of his pet.

“When I arrived at his home he didn’t even give me a proper greeting. Instead he kneeled down immediately. Obviously he had expected me. Before I could say anything, he offered me his beard as recompense for his shameful desire.”

The hobbit sighed somewhat tiredly, “Dwarves! Why do you have to make everything so complicated all the times? Anyway. After I managed to convince him, that I was neither angry with him, nor had come to claim his beard, he finally rose and we had a very interesting conversation.”

He took his time to brush a trail of tender kisses over his pet’s taunt arse cheeks, licking and massaging the sensitive entrance, before he continued. “You call me your One, khajimel. But I barely knew what this really means. I thought it was another word for lover until Dwalin explained that it is so much more. I never realised that you were willing to sacrifice every other relationship in your life just to be with me.”

“But it didn't work, did it?” Bilbo asked innocently, pushing first one and then two fingers into his submissive, fucking him with a deep and forceful pace. “You couldn't stop thinking about him. You thought about his hands and lips on your skin. You asked yourself, how it would be to be his lover or his pet. Did you imagine his thick cock in your mouth? You wanted him to take you deep and fast and you wished it was his dick, when I fucked your tight, little arse with a hard, big toy,” he said calmly, the crudity of his words and actions never reached the tone of his voice.

Thorin whined and whimpered, when his master mercilessly stimulated his prostate and filled his head with lecherous images, destroying all of his good intentions to forget his friend. He tried to force back his shameful desire, but the sinful mix of guilt and pleasure was too strong. He couldn't fight it anymore. A dry orgasm raged through him and he screamed into the surface of the couch.

The former prince groaned pitifully. His cock and balls throbbed and ached painfully in his master's hand, before he felt the familiar leather band around his genitals. He sobbed half in pain and half in relief, when the soft caress turned into a tight captivation. Finally he got the punishment he deserved for his shameful desire and betrayal. He would gladly entertain his master for hours without being allowed release, if it helped to ease his guilt.

Suddenly his master whispered into his ear, “Open your eyes, Thorin. Look at our guest!” The dwarf struggled to obey, glancing back over his shoulder. When he met the searing gaze of Dwalin his mind went blank for one moment.

The other dwarf kneeled only nine feet away, panting and naked just like Thorin. One of his big hands stroked his impressive erection, spreading precum over the tip, while the other fondled his heavy sack. He too had a leather band that lay securely around the base of both, showing clearly that the other dwarf was at their burglar’s mercy as well.

Then the former prince finally noticed the braids of a contender in the warrior’s usually loose hair. He shook his head in disbelieve and crushed down to the floor, his legs no longer strong enough to support his weight. He lay panting at his hobbit's feet, trying to understand this new turn of events.

He had heard the horrible stories, whispers in taverns or around camp fires. Whenever a dwarf desired the submissive of another he had to proof himself to the master first and it could last decades, before a dominant would grant the braids of a switch ... if ever. Most contenders backed down or their wills were broken, before they even set eyes on the submissive. Only somebody, who endured years of enslavement, would finally be accepted as a lover.

Scrambling towards his hobbit, Thorin chocked, “I'm begging you, guchirel, don't break him.” His own painful erection wasn't important anymore, when he stroked and kissed the hairy feet in front of him.

Bilbo groaned mentally, when he heard the low pleading. What were his silly dwarves withholding from him now? “Thorin, stop!” he ordered with a stern expression, unbending him with gentle force until his lover kneeled upright, so that he could look at him. “And now explain. In detail!”

With every word of his submissive the hobbit's frustration grew more and more. Stupid, stupid dwarves! Listening to his pet’s explanation of how a “normal” dominant would act in this situation, he watched the other dwarf very closely.

The warrior had stopped masturbating and the more the former prince spoke of rape and forced submission, the more Dwalin’s erection withered, until his cock lay limp between his tights. They probably wouldn't be surprised, if he took the bald dwarf right here and now, despite his obvious reluctance. For a brief moment searing fury rushed through him, but it turned into sadness almost instantly. Damn dwarvish traditions!

“You obviously skipped a few important details, when you offered yourself to me, Dwalin,” the dominant stated with a blank expression.

The warrior looked back defiantly. “These stories are widely exaggerated and act mostly as a deterrent. I'm here of my own free will and you accepted me. That's all that matters. Besides doesn’t a dominant shape his pet into what he wants it to be?”

“Shaping, yes. Forcing, no. You won’t make me a rapist, because of your own, damn stubbornness,” Bilbo hissed, before he got himself under control again. “I thought you wanted us both as lovers, but you are here, only because you want to be with Thorin. You don't really care about me. I'm just a means to an end.”

“No, that's not true,” Dwalin defended himself. “I would never give myself to anybody, not even to be with Thorin. I offered myself to you, because ...” He stopped and bit his lower lip.

“... because you thought, you could easily manipulate me?” the hobbit provoked the bald dwarf.

No, it's because ...” the warrior began to speak and blushed fiercely, when his mouth got the better of him, “It's the strange mix of softness and strength.”

“Pardon me?” the dominant asked bewilderedly.

He helplessly shook his head. “I'm not very good with words ... I can't explain ... I mean ... I love Thorin and I was willing to give him up. But then ... when I saw you two together ... I wanted not only him, but you, too.”

Suddenly hurt and humiliation were clearly visible in the dwarf's eyes and he growled defiantly, “I don't want to be raped either … I thought you accepted me, because you wanted me. But I won't impose myself on you. If you don't want me, I will go. I won't stay, because you think I'm a nice present for your pet!”

Bilbo slowly rose from the couch and approached the kneeling warrior, who flinched subtly. Although Dwalin tried to hide his sudden anxiety and pain, the hobbit saw both in his eyes nonetheless. He gently ran his fingers through the dark strands, playing with the contender-braids.

“I want you. Otherwise I would never have accepted your offer in the first place,” the dominant assured him. “But there is still one important point, before we can continue ... Do you trust me?”

“Strangely enough, I do ...”

Bilbo smiled at the soft declaration. He stepped behind Dwalin and slowly brushed his long, black hair from his right shoulder, exposing the strong neck. “I would love nothing better than to kiss your tempting mouth,” the hobbit sighed, but continued before the warrior could protest, “Yes, I remember what told me. First I have to tame you and make sure that you willingly submit to me. Only then I may grant you my kiss and therefor the braids of a switch.”

Suddenly the hobbit was distracted by stifled whines and looked at Thorin, who sat nervously on the floor, watching them closely with pleading eyes. He soothed, “Hush, my khajimel. Everything will be alright.” Then he gestured to the golden toy that lay abandoned on the couch and nodded satisfied, when the former prince hesitantly took the plug and push it slowly into his used hole.

Dwalin gulped at the sight of his friend, fucking himself at a steady pace. But then he felt soft lips on his skin, kissing and nibbling. The dwarf tensed, surprised by the intimate contact, before he was able to relax. He moaned lowly in his throat, the sensation sent shivers down his spine.

Bilbo’s hot breath ghosted over his ear, when he murmured, “I always liked my submissive tall and strong. It's thrilling to know that you could easily overwhelm me, but you don't. You hold back, because you want to be mine. I never needed crude violence to tame my pets.”

Suddenly the dwarf felt his dominants small hands first on his shoulders, but gradually wandering down on his arms and upper body. The hobbit stroked and kneaded the hard muscles and curiously traced every scar and tattoo, within his reach, before he tenderly brushed over the warrior’s nipples with his fingertips.

Dwalin appreciatively closed his eyes and tilted his head back, leaning shamelessly into the caresses of his master. His cock slowly began to swell again. He yelped in surprise, when Bilbo scratched his nails over his pectorals and pinched his nipples, but enjoyed the rough treatment nonetheless. His groans mingled with Thorin's wanton whimpers. The former prince watched them with hazed eyes, still fucking himself, but not touching his own leaking erection.

“Have you ever sucked a cock,” the dominant whispered and smirked, when the bald dwarf shook his head frantically. Bilbo's hands ghosted over Dwalin's hip to his bottom cleft, dipping one finger between the muscular cheeks. “And have you ever been taken before?”

The warrior tensed and hesitated for a brief moment, before he nodded and whined, when the ministrations stopped abruptly. “You didn't like it?” he was inquired and nodded again.

“You weren't forced, were you?” his master growled protectively, worry colouring his voice.

“By Mahal, no!” Dwalin assured him. “We ... we were just young and inexperienced and ... very impatient.” He didn’t want to remember the clumsy preparation of his past lover, the unpleasant burning and painful stretching.

“Please, touch me again … guchir (=master). It feels so good.” He blushed because of his own wantonness, never assuming that his desire for their burglar would get so strong so fast.

The dwarf sighed happily, when clever fingers continued their explorations and a hot tongue licked at the shell of his ear. “Tonight you will be mine. You will do whatever I want, whenever I want it. You're at my mercy now and I will fuck your tight, little arse until you can’t even remember any other lovers before me,” Bilbo rasped with a dark timbre.

He chuckled, when the warrior whimpered affirmatively and tangled his finger into the black mane, tugging lightly, while moving. “That's a good boy,” he praised and looked pleased at his new submissive, who got down on all fours, following the hobbit to the sofa like a dog on a leash.

Dwalin couldn't believe what he was doing. This was humiliating, yet he had never been so hard in his life. His cock bounced between his tights and twitched in anticipation of what was about to come. He had never thought about submitting to anybody, not even to Thorin, although he had been his prince. But now he undeniably looked forward to Bilbo's next order. Somehow it was so easy to obey him.

Finally the hobbit sat on the couch with his two panting pets kneeling at his feet. He caressed their cheeks, enjoying the surprisingly soft beards under his fingers. The domestic life with daily baths and care products definitely had its advantages over quick rub-downs in cold rivers.

“What means bear in Khuzdul, pet?” he asked the former prince in a soft tone.

“Amagur.”

“And perfect warrior?”

“Sanazaghâl, please guchirel ...” Thorin begged, but was silenced by a finger, brushing over his lips.

The dominant repeated the words and smiled. He liked their sound, how they rolled over his tongue. “What do you think of Dwalin's new pet names, my khajimel?” he wanted to know.

“They ... they are fitting.” Thorin choked and apologetically nuzzled his master's hand. He was ashamed that he had thought Bilbo would hurt and break the warrior. “I'm sorry I doubted you,” he whispered, but moaned dedicated, when his mouth was ravished.

The hobbit passionately kissed his pet, his left hand playing with the leather collar. The fingers of the other ran through Dwalin's beard, while the thumb brushed over the dwarf's lips, eliciting low moans from his new submissive. After a few moments he withdrew from Thorin and smirked satisfied at the sight of his trembling lover.

Then Bilbo applied his attention to the warrior, “My gorgeous amagur, it's a pity I'm not yet allowed to kiss you. But it would ruin all the fun ... however I'm curious.”

He stared exited, when his thumb slid inside Dwalin's tempting mouth, stroking tenderly over his tongue, before he grinned at the former prince. “Fortunately you were such a good boy while I played with him, pet. I think you deserve a little reward. Show me what will soon be mine and don't make me regret that you are allowed to taste him before me.” He said and gently nudged Thorin towards his friend.

Both dwarves gaped at their master, stunned by his command, before they hesitantly approached each other. At the beginning it was almost chaste, just light touches and caresses with their lips, as if they were afraid that they had to stop, when they were too daring. But soon they got more confident, licking and nibbling, before Dwalin growled lowly in his throat, reaching for Thorin and ravished his friend just like Bilbo had done it a few minutes ago.

The former prince submitted immediately and moaned wantonly. He didn't know how long they had kissed, too lost in the taste and feel of the warrior. But when he heard his master's command for them to stop, he withdrew without thinking, too well-trained to disobey. They panted heavily, dazed from their kiss, but before Thorin could recover his breath, his head was tilted back and his One claimed his mouth again.

Bilbo hummed appreciatively, savouring the mixed taste of his two submissives. After a few moments he reluctantly let go. He had to tame another dwarf after all and it certainly wouldn't help if he got distracted by his tempting pet, who begged with lust-hazed eyes and his delicious arched body shamelessly for more.

When he finally tore his eyes away from his gasping lover and looked at the warrior, he smirked and asked amused. “Do you see something you like, amagur?”

“Yes, guchir,” Dwalin choked, staring at his master's naked chest. The hobbit had taken off his shirt, while his pets had kissed. The milk white skin was alluring and the bald dwarf longed to caress it with hands and lips, wanting to trace his tongue over the long but fine scars.

They were proof of Azog's brutality during the Battle of the five Armies, running over the dominant's smooth chest down to his hips, where they disappeared inside the loose trousers. But at the same time the barely visible web of marks showed the impressive healing skills of the Mirkwood elves as well as Bilbo's endurance.

The hobbit slowly sat back and gestured Dwalin to come closer. “You like my scars, don't you, sanazaghâl?” he wanted to know, while petting Thorin, who fidgeted on the floor and whined softly, whenever the golden toy brushed against his prostate.

“Yes, it's what I meant earlier. They ... they are so plain and tenuous ... But when you finally see them, they reveal a hidden strength under your softness,” the warrior murmured and brushed his mouth over the light line next to Bilbo's navel, tracing it lovingly.

Suddenly the dwarf tensed, remembering his place in their relationship, but before he could withdraw, his master stopped him with a hand in his hair.

“That was rather poetic,” the hobbit mused, stroking the dark strands soothingly. Then he ordered, “Take off my trousers and smallclothes, amagur. I'm curious how enthusiastically you will lick other parts of me.”

Dwalin gulped and hesitantly reached for the lacings. He had never been so nervous with one of his former lovers, not even before or during his disastrous first and only time as a bottom. Eventually Bilbo's erection sprang free and the bald dwarf froze for a moment. He tried not to stare openly at the hard cock in front of him, but by Mahal's hammer the little burglar was well endowed. Even some dwarves would be jealous.

The hobbit smiled mischievously when he saw Thorin's effort to pull himself together to not lunge forward to suck his master's dick, while Dwalin was clearly uncertain about what to do next. Finally Bilbo took pity on both of them and said to the former prince. “Show Dwalin, how to use his mouth, khajimel! But keep it nice and slow. We don't want to scare him off.”

“Yes, my guchirel,” the dwarf replied and bent forward to run his tongue lovingly over the tip. Soon the warrior imitated his actions eagerly. They showered the hobbit's erection with quick, little licks or long-drawn-out ones, savouring the bittersweet taste of their dominant.

Bilbo panted heavily and watched with half closed eyes how his pets spurred each other on. Sometimes they even jostled for the thick cock in front of them, but they behaved immediately after one firm word from their master.

The hobbit noticed amused that Thorin very much enjoyed his role as Dwalin's teacher. He proudly showed the other dwarf how well-trained he was, using every trick he knew to give his One as much pleasure as possible.

The warrior on the other hand was a quick learner, licking and sucking like he had done it all his life. He hesitated only a short moment before he finally took Bilbo's throbbing erection into his mouth, attentively listening to Thorin's whispered instructions.

The hobbit moaned lowly when he heard the husky words in the dwarven language. He couldn't understand them, but they aroused him nonetheless. Dwalin's clever tongue also did its bit, when he caressed the sensitive underside of the dominant's dick with tickling and fluttering motions, until Bilbo bit his lip at the overwhelming sensation and wove his hands into the warrior's dark hair.

Thorin slid behind his friend and leaned against his broad form, murmuring encouragements and instructions into his ear. This time the other dwarf didn't hesitate and bent his head back, a clear invitation for his master to fuck his mouth properly.

The dominant groaned at the sight of his two lovers, crouching close together and thrust his hips carefully forward. Just when Dwalin moaned wordlessly for more and flicked his tongue teasingly, he began to move faster, until his cock disappeared with a steady pace inside his submissive. But before Bilbo would lose the last of his control, he stopped and withdrew.

Both dwarves whined in protest, but a sharp “Behave yourselves!” kept their mouths shut. Thorin immediately crawled back to his former place and took up a humble stance with his hands behind his back and his head lowered subserviently. Dwalin, still dazed from all these new experiences, blinked at first, before he mimicked his friend's posture.

The hobbit smiled and caressed his pets' faces reassuringly. “You did very well for a beginner,” he praised a little bit out of breath. “You are a quick learner, my amagur. But tonight I don't want to cum into your mouth, but your arse.”

He raised and gestured the warrior to stretch out on the couch with his left leg over the backrest. Then he ordered the other dwarf, who still kneeled on the floor directly beside Dwalin, “Bend his right leg and hold him open for me, khajimel.”

After adjusting the warrior’s pose to his liking, Bilbo sat between Dwalin’s spread legs and looked at the exposed groin with hungry eyes. He smirked when the puckered entrance began to twitch and gently traced the sensitive skin with his fingertip, enjoying the blush and small whimpers of his new submissive.

“Please,” the warrior whispered, suddenly not really sure whether or not he wanted to be claimed. He was sure that the hobbit wouldn't hurt him, but a tiny voice in his head reminded him of every unpleasant detail of being taken.

Maybe it would always be painful for him?

What if his hole was too tight and wouldn't stretch enough?

Would his master lose his patience with him, claiming him too hard and too fast?

Not even five minutes ago he had been certain that he wanted to be fucked by Bilbo, but now ...?

He shut his eyes, repeating his plea all over again, disdaining his own vulnerability and doubts. His nerves were raw and every passing second became more and more unbearable. He just wanted his dominant to continue, to do something … anything.

But when he felt a soft hand stroking his beard and chin, he flinched nonetheless, his eyes wide open. The warrior wanted to apologise, but couldn't utter a single word.

“It's alright, amagur. I won't hurt you. Take a deep breath and relax. You will like it, I promise,” Bilbo soothed him and bent forward, until he lay on the dwarf's broad chest. They groaned, when their groins slowly rubbed against each other.

The treacherous voice in his head became quiet and Dwalin sighed appreciatively while a hot mouth sucked and licked his sensitive neck. He arched his spine, already addicted to the feeling of the hobbit's skin on his own.

Suddenly the contact stopped abruptly and the warrior reached for the warm body above him, whimpering at the loss. But before he could pull Bilbo back, the dominant placed a well-aimed slap across his tight and ordered with a stern voice, “Keep your arms over your head until I say otherwise. Try to touch me again without permission and you won't cum anytime soon. Understood?”

“Yes, guchir,” Dwalin rasped and gripped the couch's armrest above his head. His uncertainty began to return under the hobbit's unreadable gaze, but before the tiny voice could infect his head with heavy doubts and unwanted thoughts again, Bilbo addressed the former prince, who still kneeled silently but with a longing expression, watching every little movement of his two lovers.

“I think we need to distract our sanazaghâl and I know how much you want to taste him, pet,” the hobbit said and chuckled, when Thorin immediately lunged forward and savoured the warrior, purring and mewling while he licked, sucked and nibbled at the hard cock.

Dwalin's cried out as soon as his dick was surrounded by his friend's hot, wet mouth. His hands grasped the armrest even tighter and he tried desperately to hold his hips still and not arch into the contact. He had to concentrate not to choke the former prince and therefor almost missed the hobbit's next words.

“You look gorgeous, amagur. You want to touch him, don't you? And Thorin was such an obedient pet that he earned a little reward. Don’t you think?” Bilbo chuckled again, watching his squirming submissives.

“You may fuck him with his toy, sanazaghâl,” he ordered and smirked satisfied, when the warrior reached with trembling fingers for his friend's full arse, slowly pulling out the golden plug.

The former prince keened loudly around the cock in his mouth, repositioning himself alongside Dwalin, stretching his backside to give his lover better access. Soon he panted out of breath, when Dwalin found the right angle and pace to stimulate Thorin's well-used hole and prostrate, turning him into a quivering mess of nerves within moments. Both dwarves moaned wantonly again and again, lost in giving and receiving pleasure to each other.

Bilbo watched the sinful spectacle in front of him. Then he reached for the vile of oil, massaging the warrior’s puckered entrance with slippery digits, smiling satisfied when Dwalin groaned at the contact and spread his legs even wider.

The dominant gently probed the sensitive skin and after some minutes he slowly inserted his fingertip, closely paying attention to even the slightest sign of discomfort from the warrior. But the dwarf only groaned louder and hesitantly began to thrust his hips back and forth, whimpering in pleasure, when the finger was shoved inside his tight arse.

“Do you like to be filled, my amagur?” the hobbit asked innocently, while he moved his hand, relaxing his new submissive before he carefully added a second digit, stretching the ring of muscles.

Dwalin hissed, when he was widened, but was immediately distracted by Thorin, who eagerly fluttered his tongue against the other dwarf's erection, playing with the slit and savouring the taste. The slight pain of the preparation finally disappeared completely when Bilbo crooked his fingers and massaged the prostate skilfully, sending sparks of pleasure through the dwarf’s body.

“Yes … yes, please … more,” the warrior croaked, half mad with pleasure. He had never thought that this could fell so good. This couldn’t be less similar to his disastrous first time as bottom. Suddenly he could understand why the former prince loved to be filled, not just by their master's cock but also by toys, greedily fucking himself on the golden butt plug right now. The bald dwarf didn't even noticed, when a third digit joined the other two, slackening his hole in preparation of the dominant's thick erection.

All the time Thorin watched with lust-hazed eyes, how his friend was opened by the hobbit, sucking and nibbling at Dwalin's rock-hard dick like it was a delicacy. He wasn't certain whether or not he wanted their play to reach the next level, being content with their current situation and longing for more at the same time. The mere thought of hot, pulsating flesh instead of the unyielding hardness of a toy deep inside of his arse made him shudder in pleasant anticipation.

Finally Bilbo was satisfied with his handiwork. Three fingers moved smoothly in and out of his submissive’s hole, the ring of muscles offered no resistance at all, while the hobbit lubricated his own throbbing cock. He withdrew his digits and positioned himself directly in front of the warrior’s stretched and twitching entrance.

“Look at me, amagur!” the dominant demanded and pulled Thorin by his hair away from the other dwarf’s dick, making both of his pets whimper and keen. The former prince immediately begged with a low voice, “Please, guchirel, let me suck him again. He tastes so good. Please, please!” But Bilbo gently hushed him, lying two fingers over his lips, before he locked his eyes with Dwalin’s.

The dominant slowly began to push into the tight heat, taking care that he didn’t hurt his new lover. When he was seated deep inside the dwarf, he chuckled, a little bit out of breath, at the astonished expression and small whines of the warrior.

“I promised you that you would like my cock,” he reminded his submissive with a mischievous smile and rocked slightly back and force, stimulating Dwalin's prostrate. A throaty moan and heavy pants were his only answers.

Thorin watched longingly, when his friend was fucked by his master. The hobbit had returned to holding him back by his hair, effectively preventing him from lunging at the bald dwarf's dick. His arse was awfully empty. The golden toy lay abandoned on the floor, forgotten as soon as Bilbo's cock had entered the warrior.

But he wouldn't begrudge Dwalin his claiming, he was a good pet after all, although the sounds his friend made were a challenge for his self-control. And so the former prince kneeled silently beneath the couch, watching as his master took his new submissive speeding up his pace. The other dwarf only begged for more, to be taken harder and faster, throwing his head from one side to the other and gripping the armrest with both hands while waves of hot pleasure coursed through his body.

Finally Bilbo spent himself deep inside of Dwalin's arse, claiming him properly, but leaving the bald dwarf still hard, aching and at their master's mercy. The warrior sobbed brokenly into the soft surface of the couch, repeating his plea to cum again and again. Yet the hobbit ignored him.

Their dominant released Thorin's hair, stroking the dark strands lovingly before he bent forward, nibbling his way over Dwalin's muscular chest to his ear. “You are mine, amagur. Do you feel my claim over you? Swear that you belong to me … just like Thorin. Were he is concerned my word is law. Swear it and I will allow you to cum … and to touch him, to kiss him, to take him, just like you want.”

“I swear it, guchir,” the warrior chocked. “… by my honour and my life … and that of my kin … I will obey you. I’m yours, your pet … whatever you want … just, please.”

Bilbo smirked triumphantly and took hold of Dwalin under his chin. For a brief moment the dwarf met his master’s gaze, before he closed his eyes in surrender, giving in to whatever treatment the hobbit would see fit.

“Mine,” the dominant confirmed, running his tongue teasingly over quivering lips. At first the warrior was too surprised, but after a few moments of uncertainty he arched eagerly into the contact, moaning in pleasure and pride that he had already earned the status as a switch.

The hobbit hummed approvingly, when Dwalin didn’t even try to dominate their kiss. He didn’t know how long they lay on the couch, tasting and caressing each other, until he heard a low, broken whimper. Bilbo slowly withdrew and ordered the warrior to sit up, before he approached his other pet.

Thorin hadn’t wanted to interrupt their kiss, but the longer it lasted the more he felt like an intruder, desperately wishing to be a part of their affection and not only as an observer. When he met the knowing eyes of his master, he dropped his gaze ashamed of himself.

“Don't worry, pet. We don't forget you,” the hobbit soothed, stroking the dark mane and trembling form of the former prince.

“I'm sorry, guchirel. I wait as long as you want. Please don't be angry,” the dwarf pleaded, but leaned into the caress nonetheless. He didn't even know why the image of Bilbo and Dwalin together had upset him so much.

“My poor khajimel. You're so empty without your toy, aren't you?” the dominant said, while his fingers wandered to Thorin's hole, tickling the oversensitive skin, before he inserted two digits in one smooth move. “We have to remedy this … and Dwalin loves to help, don't you amagur?”

The bald dwarf grunted approvingly, while he devoured his friends squirming body with his eyes. He licked his lips in anticipation, aware that he wouldn't last very long, not after Bilbo had claimed him so thoroughly. But it didn't matter, because the former prince was as desperate for release as he. Besides he could play with his new lover almost whenever he wanted now; time enough to make him beg for his cock.

“Please,” Thorin whimpered again and again. He dithered between the wonderful feeling of his master's fingers in his arse and the tempting erection of the other dwarf in front of him. “I … I don't … it feels ... but … but please … need …” he begged incoherently, while he bucked his hips and stared at his friend's groin longingly.

“Naughty pet,” the hobbit chuckled, “you never get enough.” He scissored his digit's, before he inserted another and then even a forth, testing how slack the ring of muscle was. Finally he smirked, satisfied with the result, and met the warrior's eyes. “So greedy. Maybe two cocks will be enough for him. Do you want to try, amagur?” Dwalin just groaned and nodded.

Thorin hadn't paid much attention to Bilbo's words. He only felt the fingers deep inside him, massaging his prostate without mercy. When a command pierced the blissful fog in his mind, he blindly followed them, not really caring who had given the orders. He shamelessly presented himself, while he was arranged, leaning even into the smallest caress. All the time his master never stopped his torturous stimulation and stretched his entrance to an almost painful level.

Only when he kneeled over Dwalin's lap, facing his friend, Bilbo withdrew his fingers from his arse and loosened the leather band around the bald dwarf's erection.

But before the former prince could beg for his own restriction to come off, the warrior roughly attacked his neck and upper body with hands, lips and teeth, fending off every coherent thought.

Bilbo enjoyed the dwarves' sinful play. His cock was already hard again, because of their enticing show and lustful noises. Thorin moaned and whined wantonly, rubbing himself like a dog in heat at his friend's body, while it seemed that Dwalin couldn't decide what patch of skin he wanted to devour next and just tried to be everywhere at the same time.

Finally the hobbit tore his eyes away and took the flask of oil, lubricating the warrior's and his own cock.

The bald dwarf hissed at the unexpected contact, but after the first shock he groaned in pleasure and raised the submissive's bottom, kneading the tempting cheeks. When Bilbo finished his preparations and lined up the warrior's slick dick, he ordered, “Enter him!” Dwalin carefully lowered his friend and sighed as soon as he was surrounded by Thorin. It felt incredible, even better than he had imagined nearly all his life.

When the former prince was finally filled by the other dwarf’s pulsating erection, he couldn't hold on any longer. He babbled incoherently, desperately clinging to his lover, when a second dry orgasm rushed through him, leaving him drained but still arching in his friend’s arms. He moaned and laughed giddy with happiness and desire.

Dwalin cursed under his breath. The delicious clenching heat around him had almost finished him. He growled dangerously and painfully pinched the hard nipples in front of him.

“That was very naughty, pet. You nearly ruined our plan,” the hobbit grumbled darkly, standing behind him, pushing two digits into the already full hole to stretch it even further.

The warrior cursed again, firmly squeezing the base of his genitals. “Please, hurry up … shit … or we can forget this. … Oh, Mahal, Bilbo … please,” he wailed, when a third finger moved along his cock.

All the while Thorin sobbed hoarsely. His arse was on fire and was more and more widened by his master. Suddenly the pressure in his hole waned to a tolerable level and he concentrated on his own heartbeat, thundering in his chest and ears. He whimpered, realising that Bilbo had withdrawn his fingers completely.

For a brief moment he was just relieved, before he closed his eyes in shame.

Had he said something improper?

Had he ruined their play completely now?

Were they angry with … suddenly every coherent thought fled his mind when Bilbo entered him from behind. He threw back his head and opened his mouth in a silent scream. He desperately tried to remember how to breathe. This was too much; they couldn't fit … not together.

The hobbit groaned. His pet’s muscles were like an iron fist around their dicks. He met Dwalin's eyes for a brief moment; both of them agreed wordlessly, that they had to calm their submissive, before they could continue.

“Don't fight me, my khajimel. Trust me; you are loose enough, I promise. Just breathe and relax,” Bilbo said and tried to sound not too strained, running his hands in soothing cycles over his pet's stomach and hips, while the warrior tried to divert himself and his friend, gently licking and sucking the puckered nubs in front of him.

Finally Thorin's training kicked in and he followed his master's commands. He took a deep breath and sighed in relief, when his nostrils filled with the intoxicating and arousing scent of his dominants and air rushed into his lungs. Bit by bit he willed his clenching inner walls to relax. It still hurt, when Bilbo's erection slid in alongside Dwalin's, but now he could feel an underlying pleasure that made the experience more bearable.

He heard Bilbo whispering his name and he felt the gentle caress of small hands all over his body, wandering lower, until they reached his erection. The leather band around his genitals came off and he moaned low in his throat as blood rushed into his cock and the pain partly waned. His arse was still incredible full and stretched, but his balls didn't arched anymore and he relaxed even more.

The dominants groaned in unison, when their cocks weren't squashed anymore. They moved carefully, paying close attention to the slightest sign of discomfort from their lover, soothing Thorin, whenever he whimpered in pain.

The former prince groaned at the new sensations. It seemed that there wasn't one patch of skin on his body, that wasn't caressed, stroked, kissed or licked. He felt their possessive hands and mouths everywhere. Then Dwalin suddenly bent forward to kiss his quivering lips, slightly changing the position and angles of Bilbo's and his erections. Thorin yelped his surprise as a wave of pure pleasure ripped through him, no distress colouring the feeling any longer. He slowly began to rock back and forth, sighing happily when it didn't hurt.

“Yes, just like that. It feels good now, doesn't it, my khajimel? Such an obedient pet,” the hobbit praised, stroking the dark strands in front of him. He smiled, when he heard the warrior's murmured words in Khuzdul, noticing some endearments he knew. Soon the submissive slightly pounced up and down their cocks.

Bilbo watched his pet's blissful expression, until he was certain that the initial pain was forgotten. His submissive was completely plunged in his world of lust and servitude, already remembering a few of his tricks to pleasure his masters. He skilfully clenched his arse or rotated his hips to create more friction and after a few minutes warrior groaned desperately and came deep inside of his friend, slumping back on the couch boneless as soon as he had spent himself.

The former prince whimpered, when Dwalin's seed filled him. He only needed release and every fibre of his body screamed for mercy, but he couldn't cum, until both his dominants were satisfied. He sobbed brokenly. He wanted to be a good pet … he had to be …

When he saw his submissive's distress, the hobbit ordered tenderly, “Cum for me, Thorin. Show me how much you love our cocks.” He moaned low in his throat, enjoying the spasms around his erection, while his pet felt over the edge and followed him after two small thrusts.

Bilbo carefully withdrew from the well-used hole before he snuggled into his dwarves. He watched them with fond eyes while he waited for his pulse to return to normal. Thorin had passed out as soon as he had cum and Dwalin looked at his friend with open adoration, affectionately caressing his back.

“We should wash and then go to bed. I think we exhaust him,” the hobbit murmured and blinked tiredly. His hands ran lazily over heated skin, drawing invisible patterns on muscular bodies. Thorin sighed happily in his sleep.

The warrior chuckled lowly and leaned into his new lover’s touch, “Not just him. This was incredible.”


End file.
